


Playing House

by likebunnies



Category: JAG
Genre: Adultery, F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-09
Updated: 2013-09-09
Packaged: 2017-12-26 02:52:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 41,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/960712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likebunnies/pseuds/likebunnies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While Bud's away, Harm and Harriet play house.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playing House

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for 'Port Chicago,' 'In Country' and 'Enemy Below.' There's a quite a bit of playing with the timeline by me. Completed 02June2002. This story is pretty much Harm/Harriet while Bud is away. Harm and Harriet was not one of the pairing choices offered! -- Jori

PART I  
"Paint, sir."

"I thought that's what I was doing." I look at the brush in my hand and then look at Harriet.

"Painting yourself, sir? You're supposed to be helping me with the walls," she says, motioning with the roller in her hand towards my face. I reach up and feel a wet drop of paint smeared across my cheek. "You don't look very good in apple blossom green, sir."

"I don't look that good in most any shade of green," I say, attempting to be witty, while I make an effort to wipe it off. I can tell by the expression on her face that I'm only making matters worse. I reach for the rag I have hanging out of my pocket but that's covered in paint, too.

"Hold on. I'll get a clean rag," she says, placing her roller in the tray and heading towards one of the many bathrooms in this house. She went ahead and bought it against my advice and now I've been here most every weekend for the last month helping her fix up things here and there. I've helped her refinish the wood flooring in one room and the fixtures in the downstairs bathroom. This weekend, we're painting the guest bedroom. It's a beautiful house and it looks just like something Harriet would be happy in and I'm sure one of these days she'll tell Bud exactly how much it really cost and how she went about purchasing it.

She returns and hands a wet washcloth me and I try my best to clean it off without looking in a mirror.

With a laugh, Harriet takes the rag from my hand and motions for me to lean down. "Here, sir. I'm used to cleaning up messy faces," she says, wiping at my cheek. After scrubbing for a bit, her hand stops and she just stares at me, a soft smile on her face.

It's not often that I'm envious of Bud but these last few weeks have changed that. There's something to be said for the security of having a house to go to at the end of the day and the companionship one can find only in a spouse. The problem is, she's someone else's spouse; a friend's spouse. And I know I'm only helping out, but he's so far away and she's so close. I shake the thought out of my head as she pulls her hand away slowly.

"You look good in some shades of green, sir. Like your flight suit . . . I've seen pictures and you . . ." she says, fumbling with her words. "And you look good. Apple blossom green doesn't even . . .

"Harriet."

"What?"

"When was the last time you spoke to Bud?" I ask. Someone has to bring up his name. We barely even mention him anymore, not since they had their huge long distance fight over this house. I'm sure that argument isn't over since he doesn't even know the half of it.

"We e-mail each other," she says with a shrug, looking away from me. She takes the rag and wipes some paint off of her fingers, focusing on her fingernails with a little too much zeal.

"Don't you think he'd like to do some of these jobs once he gets home?" I ask, putting the brush down on the edge of the paint can. It's as much a question for me as it is for her.

"I don't know, sir. Probably. It's just that I wanted to get the place ready so he wouldn't be so angry about it and while doing that . . . you . . . happened."

"Nothing's happened, Harriet. Nothing *can* happen," I say, trying to convince myself of it, too. Harriet is a friend and can never be anything more. She couldn't possibly want anything more.

"I know that but it's just nice having you around," she says, but she has this undeniable trace of guilt in her voice and it echoes exactly how I feel. There's nothing wrong with what we're doing but there's just something not right about it either.

"Maybe I should go for today," I say, rubbing the paint still left on my hands on the front of my jeans. "I'll help out more if you need me to, but maybe it's best if I leave now."

"But dinner's almost ready and there's really too much for just AJ and me and I . . . I'd like for you to stay. The weekends get long without . . ." she starts to say and the doubt about whether I should or not must really be showing on my face because Harriet then does what she does best. She pulls the mother card on me. "Besides, you could use a good home cooked meal, sir. You've been working so hard on the Chao case and you've hardly been out of the office . . ."

"Okay, Harriet," I say, conceding to her. I know I should turn and walk out that door right now as fast as I can. Actually, I should run, but I don't. We know what we are to each other and nothing is going to change that. I think.

Before either of us can say another word on the matter, AJ shows up behind us, fresh from his nap, blanket in hand. "Juice, Mommy," he says and he gives her a look that makes it undeniable that he's Bud's kid.

Harriet tosses the rag on the drop cloth and kneels down, taking the toddler in her open arms. She kisses his face, promising him juice and accepts his kisses in return with a joy that she can't hide. For a second, that envy over how perfect family life appears rises up again and I push it back down quickly.

*********

Commander Rabb doesn't eat much but instead he just sort of shoves his food around the plate. It's like having two children at the table.

"Is it okay, sir? I know you don't like meat so I experimented with a recipe I found on-line," I explain and he gives me an apologetic look as he takes a bite.

"It's fine, Harriet. You did a wonderful job with dinner," he says after swallowing. He then reaches for his glass of soda and drinks it down before giving me a half smile. I don't believe him. He hates it.

"If you have any recipes you'd prefer, I can do that . . ." I start to say but he puts a hand up to stop me mid sentence.

"It's not that, Harriet," he says and I know he's still not telling the truth. "I think the paint fumes got to me. My stomach is a bit queasy."

"My dinner made you queasy, sir?" I ask, unable to hide the disappointment in my voice. Why should I be disappointed? I'm not sure. I'm a mother of a young child and I'm used to my food being turned down or even tossed off the plate. I guess I'm trying . . . I don't know what I'm trying. I'm not sure what I'm feeling or why. Maybe Commander Rabb should have left when he said he wanted to.

"No, Harriet, it's not the meal that's upsetting my stomach," he says, sitting back in his chair and staring at me intently. Why does he have to do that? He's looking at me as if I'm just some stupid housewife and I wish he'd see past that. Why do I want that? Why do I need that from him? I already have someone who sees me for more than just a married woman who wants a house and more children and doesn't mind driving a minivan.

"Are you getting sick, sir?" I ask, knowing already that's not what he means.

"Pink medicine! Comm'aner needs pink medicine," AJ shouts out at the mention of sick. At least that breaks Harm's stare. Now he focuses on my child and gives him a smile.

"I think I'll be all right without the pink medicine," he say and AJ giggles at him. They make strange faces at each other and AJ starts giggling even harder. "Some days it feels like just yesterday that he was born."

"And some days it feels like a million years ago," I comment with a heavy sigh. "After Sarah died, everything slowed down to a near standstill and time had no meaning for a while except as a strange punishment. It kept going on even though I didn't want to."

We both look at each other again and he's at a loss for words which is okay because there's really nothing anyone can say that matters. His eyes dart down to his plate of uneaten food and now he looks like he wants to escape. Perhaps discussion about daughter is a bit too much to expect from him. Perhaps this is a good reminder of what my life is and what his isn't.

"Did you ever think about having children, sir?" I ask and he nods his head without looking up at me. For some reason, that surprises me. "Really?"

"Short, short discussions have occurred about the matter. My mother would love it," he adds with a slight grin.

"She would be a beautiful baby," I say, and now I have his full attention.

"She?"

"Or he. And you could teach her to fly someday."

"Her?"

"I'm sorry, sir. I just can picture you with a little girl. Blonde hair and blue eyes and absolutely in love with her daddy," I say and this line of conversation is making him very uncomfortable. I wonder what woman managed to have a short discussion about it with him?

"Blonde hair and blue eyes sounds nice," he says and then his eyes flicker away from mine and back down to his plate.

"Married life isn't that bad, sir," I say, finally giving up on the dinner. I get up from the table and begin to clean AJ off.

"I think I'm learning that," he says and I stop wiping apple sauce off little fingers for just a second.

"Is there something wrong with that?" I ask and he doesn't say anything to me for quite a while. If it weren't for AJ's constant babbling through it all, the silence would be incredibly uncomfortable.

"I don't think I should be learning it with someone who's married to someone who's not me," he says with a seriousness in his voice I've never heard before. Before I can make a comment in return, he pushes himself away from the table and begins clearing the dishes.

"I'll get that, sir. I'm pretty used to dishes by now," I say but he doesn't stop.

"No, Harriet. You made dinner so it's the least I can do to help you clean up afterwards," he says, busying himself at the sink while I pretend that AJ still needs more food wiped off of him. That just seems easier than standing next to Commander Rabb at the sink.

"You'll make someone a wonderful husband someday, sir," I say and he stops with the dishes and turns to me.

"No, I won't."

"I think you will. I think you . . . do," I say and regret the words as soon as they slip out of my mouth.

"Maybe it's best that I go now," he says and this time he doesn't give me a chance to argue with him about it. "I'll see you on Monday in the office unless there's an emergency and you need my help."

He stresses the word emergency and I feel this lump rise up to my throat. I didn't plan on spending the evening alone. I thought he could stay and we'd do . . . something. Not something. I don't know what I thought.

"Okay, sir. Thanks for all your help," I manage to say as I watch him walk out of the kitchen and towards the front door.

*********

PART II  
I'm not sure if it's the crash of thunder or the ringing phone that wakes me up first. All I know is it's not time to get up and for a second I think about ignoring the phone. Unfortunately, I know that any call that comes after . . . damn . . . 2 a.m. must be important so with groan of complaint, I reach for it.

"Commander Rabb here," I say, slurring the words a bit.

"Sir?" It's a timid voice that can only belong to Harriet. I sit upright in bed and struggle to pull it all together.

"Harriet? What's wrong?" I ask and she doesn't say anything right away. "Harriet, did something happen to AJ?"

"Sir, you said I could call in an emergency, right?" she asks, seeking my permission. She hasn't called all week and I've been out of the office so much that we've barely have had time to speak at all. All I know is that I heard Harriet mention to someone that AJ hasn't been feeling well.

"Anytime, Harriet. What's the problem?" I ask. She now has my heart pounding in my chest like only a middle of the night phone call can do.

"Water, sir," she says, sounding quite exhausted and overwhelmed.

"Water?"

"Water and lots of it."

"Did you call a plumber?"

"Well, sir, the water is in the basement . . . and there's water everywhere," she says and I can tell she's near tears.

It's been raining hard since yesterday morning and it's the first good rain since she moved into the house. I never even thought about what might happen after 36 hours of pouring rain. I was confident the home inspectors would have found any problems and I know somewhere in all that paperwork there was some guarantee on the basement being sealed. I guess they were wrong.

"Did you turn on the . . . um . . . the. . . the . . . bilge pump?" I say, knowing that's not right. I'm still too tired to think straight.

"Bilge pump, sir? I'm not on a ship here though it's getting close. A ship that's going down fast, that is," she says and I hear her struggling with something.

"I mean sump pump. Do you have one?"

"Sir, I grew up in Florida. We didn't have a basement," she says with a heavy sigh. "Do you have any ideas about what I'm supposed to do?"

"How deep is it?" I ask knowing that it doesn't really matter.

"I've never seen this much water in a house before, sir," she answers and once again I hear her trying to do something.

"What's that noise."

"That's the sound of me trying to bail water out of my basement," she says and I can tell from the tone of her voice that she's near the end of her rope.

"I'm going to look in the phonebook and see if I can find an emergency water extraction place . . ."

"There is such a thing?" she asks, a twinge of hope in her voice.

"God, I hope so," I answer, getting out of bed and searching for the clothes I had on today. "And I'll be right over. Just . . . just hold on for a few minutes, okay?"

She doesn't say anything right away.

"I'm really sorry about this, sir. I was trying so hard to do everything myself but this is . . ."

"Harriet, stop. It's okay. Just hang on until I get there," I tell her, pressing the phone between my shoulder and ear as I try to get into my jeans.

"Will do, sir. It's the house with the ark parked out front," she says, trying her hardest to make light of the situation.

"Very funny. Hey, Harriet?"

"Yes, sir?" she asks and I hear water splash around on the other end of the line. Lots of water.

"Never mind," I say, knowing I can tell her what I was going to say in person. "I'll see you soon."

**********

"Thank you, sir," I say, taking Commander Rabb's wet towel and handing him a dry one. He's wet not only from the basement but from the rain as well and I watch as he stands in my kitchen, running the towel over his head. "I really mean it. I can't thank you enough."

"For what?" he asks, looking truly embarrassed by my gushing display of gratitude.

"For coming over here in the middle of the night to bail me out, so to speak, especially after you told me not to call," I say, handing him yet another towel. He doesn't really need it so he tosses it on the table and stares at me with this look I can't quite describe.

One of the workers he called walks past us towards the front door, leaving a wet trail across my floor. Neither of us says a word. We just stand there listening to some pump they have running downstairs and I'm surprised AJ has slept through it all. One of the best parts of having this big house is that I can do whatever I want downstairs and he sleeps through it. He never did that in our apartment.

"I didn't mean you couldn't call," he says.

"You said only in an emergency and I really didn't know who else to call. I thought about calling the Admiral, but I . . . then I tried to fix it myself, sir, I really did. I'm used to having Bud around to help me with situations like this and . . ." I stop babbling. I don't know why I'm babbling to him except once again I don't want him to think I'm some little housewife who can't handle things like floods without a man by her side. For some reason, what he thinks has become very important to me in the last couple of weeks.

"I'm sure you could have handled it yourself, Harriet," he says, sounding just a little doubtful under that vote of confidence. I don't blame him. I was a big leak and a big mess but I could have at least figured out the part about the phonebook.

"But I didn't handle it myself. I'm the one who said everything would be fine if Bud went away and that I could take care of whatever came my way and yet here I am, calling you in the middle of the night," I say, fighting back the tears. I won't cry about this in front of him. I *will* not let myself do it.

I lose the fight and I begin to add even more water to the mess I already have.

"Harriet, can I ask you something?"

"Anything, sir," I say, wiping my eyes with the towel in my hands. I think it's probably the last dry towel in the house and with the washer and dryer now standing in a foot of water in the basement, I don't know what I'm going to do.

"Why do you care so much what I think?" he asks and I'm not sure I really have an answer for him. Actually, I do, but it's not something I want to get into with him because it's . . . personal. Bud has been the only man around for so long that a part of me forgot what it was like to worry about what another man thinks of me outside of the workplace. I know how the Commander feels about me there, but I have no idea what he thinks of me here, at home.

"Because, sir . . . what you think is important to me," is all I say, giving an answer that doesn't commit to anything.

"But why?" he asks again. I should have known he wouldn't let it go. He's a lawyer and it's his job to get the answer out of someone. Well, I'm used to that with Bud, too, and I've learned how to get out of answering many things over the years. Like how much this house really cost and how much money my dad lent me.

"Don't you know by now?" I ask and that catches him off guard.

"I'm not sure what I know right now," he answers. He pulls his wet t-shirt away from his chest. It just drops right back in place, clinging to him. It gives me an excuse to change the conversation before it goes . . . anywhere. I wish it could go somewhere but there are workmen in the basement and the sun is coming up and now is not a good time. Then again, there will never be a good time.

"Would you like some clothes to change into, sir?" I ask as he continues to tug at his shirt. "I'm sure I can dig one of Bud's sweat suits out of a box and . . . that would be really short on you, wouldn't it?"

"Just a little," he says with a laugh, breaking the tension in the room just a little.

"I think I have some of Mikey's stuff here, too, somewhere. Would that be better?" I ask, trying to remember where I stowed some of the clothes Mikey always left at our apartment.

"It doesn't matter if it's too short, Harriet. It's just you. Do we really care how we look to each other?" he asks and for some reason, that doesn't sit right with me.

"Oh," I say, my voice falling flat. I'm so tired and my nerves are such a jangle that everything is upsetting me right now. I turn away from him before . . . I don't know. I just don't know.

Before another word can be spoken, I feel his hand on my shoulder and I turn to him, crying again. Damn it, I hate it when I cry like this but it's just been one of those days. Commander Rabb wraps me in his arms, rocking me gently.

"That's not what I meant, Harriet. I don't know what I meant, really," he says, and I look up at him, blinking away the tears.

"I just don't want you to think I can't handle any serious problems, sir. I keep asking for your help and I'm afraid that your opinion of me is . . ."

He stops me before I can get another word out, touching my chin and keeping my eyes tilted up towards his. "Harriet, you've already survived the worst thing that can happen to a person. Water in the basement is nothing compared to . . . the baby. To Sarah. I know you can handle anything. I know you can get through anything. So if you ever wonder what I think of you, that's it. You're strong and smart and beautiful and . . ."

And before he can get another word out, a workman comes trudging through the kitchen again. He and I pull apart quickly, as if we were just caught doing something. He turns away quickly to look out of the window over the kitchen sink, watching the sun steadily make it's way up over the horizon.

"Thank you, sir," I say quietly and he turns back around, giving me a smile.

"I have to be in court in a few hours," he says, looking at his watch and yawning.

"You can go. I know I can handle it from here," I say.

"Are you sure? I don't want to leave you alone here if you're uncomfortable with that guy with the big squeegee down there," he says and I just laugh.

"I think I can handle him, sir. Besides, I need to wake AJ up soon and make him breakfast," I say and Commander Rabb walks backs over to me and pulls me into a hug again.

"It's going to be all right, Harriet," he says and I'm not really sure what exactly is going to be all right at this point. I hug him back, feeling his warmth through his wet clothes and I sigh.

"I hope so, sir. I really do."

**********

PART III  
"You look beat," Mac says, catching up to me as I make my way to my office.

"Home ownership is hell," I say and she gives me a puzzled look.

"What?"

"Harriet's house is the ultimate money pit. Sunday, it was the basement flooding and last night it was the dishwasher."

"She called *you* to help with the dishwasher?" Mac asks incredulously.

"There was soap going everywhere. Damn thing ruined the floor I just refinished. . . . and who else would she call?" I ask and Mac just shrugs it off.

"Well, your constant exhaustion from this past week works to my benefit. I'll see you in court in one hour and twelve minutes. That is, if you're still awake," she says with a smile leaving me at my office door.

"I'll be awake," I mumble though I'm not sure about that. I sit down at my desk and suddenly wish I would have grabbed a cup of coffee before I sat down because I certainly don't feel like getting up again. I stare blankly at the files in front of me, trying to remember exactly which one it is I need for today's case.

"Did you know about this, sir?" Harriet asks, rushing into my office and slamming the door behind her. The sound makes me jump, breaking my stare at nothing. In her hand, there's a file of some sort and she's waving it at me. I can tell she's clearly upset and I have no clue what the problem is now.

"Know about what? Is that something to do with the house because I haven't had time to look at the inspection report yet . . ." I start to say but she interrupts me.

"No, sir. It's about my husband's Legalman on the Seahawk," she says, casting the file my way.

"What about him?" I ask, picking up the folder and trying to ascertain the problem from whatever is in here.

"That's it, sir. It's not a him. It's a her," she says, sniffling a little. That can't be upsetting Harriet that much. Bud has worked with many women before and there's got to be more to it. Maybe it's just exhaustion. She not only stayed up half of the night with me, she also had to deal with AJ this morning.

"So . . ."

"It's not just any her, sir. It's Petty Officer Coates," she says and I know I know that name but I can't quite place it. Harriet makes an exasperated sigh and fills me in. "From Christmas. Remember?"

"Oh, yeah. So the Petty Officer is on the Seahawk now? I'm a better lawyer than I give myself credit for. Good for her," I say and obviously it's not the right thing to say at all.

"How could this possibly be good!? They work together everyday and . . . and . . ." she stammers as she gets more upset.

"Bud works with lots of people, Harriet. And there's lots of women on carriers now. Heck, you were on a carrier when you met him and . . . oh," I say when she gets this little pointed look on her face.

"I know that, sir," Harriet says and I motion for her to sit down. She does, slumping down in the chair and looking more miserable than she did when we were both standing in bubbles at 11 p.m.

"I, um . . . are you worried that Bud will meet someone else, Harriet?" I ask, not really knowing what she wants me to say. She and I have been spending a lot of time together lately and I'm not certain Bud knows about all of it.

The difference is Bud knows me. Bud trusts me.

"I'm not worried about that exactly, sir," she says, but she doesn't sound too certain.

"You have to tell me what you're thinking . . . what you're worried about," I say and she lets out a long, soft sigh.

"Why did he think he had to hide it, sir?" she asks, her eyes desperately searching mine. "What would make you hide something like that?"

"Me?"

"You're a man. Why would you lie about that to your wife? If I were your wife, would you have told me?"

"I don't have a wife," I say, getting a bit uncomfortable with her questions. Last night, all we did was discuss the dishwasher and how she was now thinking about putting linoleum in the kitchen and we steered clear of any other discussion. It just seemed to be the for the best after last weekend but now here we are again. I don't know where any of this is leading. I don't always know where I want it to lead to.

"If you did . . ."

"Harriet, that's a moot point and you know it. But let me ask you this . . . if you were working a lot of hours with a man Bud knew *and* there was nothing going on but work, would you tell him?" I ask and she cocks her head to the side to consider it.

"I told him about you."

"What about me?" I ask, almost choking on the words.

"I told him you were helping with the house. He thought that was great," she says and I know he wouldn't think it was all that great if he knew exactly how I was feeling some of the times I was there working on his house with his wife.

"What does that have to do with Bud working with the Petty Officer?" I ask.

"Because, sir, if I were sleeping with you, I wouldn't have told him anything."

That just about lays it all out there. Neither of us has much to say after that. Instead, she picks some imaginary lint off of her uniform and I pretend to go searching for the files I need for the client I have to see . . . now.

"Sir, I'm not feeling too well and this isn't exactly going to be the best weekend of my life. Do you think the Admiral would mind if I asked to go home for the day?" she asks, looking up at me with eyes that are brimming with tears.

"You have to ask him," I answer and for a second, I wish I could take her in my arms again and tell her everything is going to be just fine.

"Thank you for your time, sir," she says, getting up to leave my office. "I'll see you on Monday."

"Yeah. Monday," I say as I watch her go.

*************

The cemetery is busy today with a lot of people visiting their mother's grave. I look around and I can't imagine that a lot of people here are mothers visiting their baby. I sit on the grass and just stare at my baby's name, amazed at how much I can still miss her and I hardly got the chance to know her.

I had to do this today, leaving AJ with a sitter for a few hours while I came out to spend time with Sarah. This is the first time I've come here without Bud but I'm so angry with him right now I don't really miss him. And the worst part is it's our wedding anniversary, too. I haven't heard from him in days and I haven't even felt like bringing up Petty Officer Coates yet. I figure he'll tell me when he's ready. Give him enough rope . . .

"Hey," someone says from behind me and I turn around to find Commander Rabb towering over me.

"What are you doing here, sir?" I ask, shading my eyes against the bright spring sun. He's dressed rather nice for someone who didn't have to take their mom out for brunch. He pulls off his sunglasses and tucks them in the breast pocket of his shirt and looks around the cemetery.

"After breakfast with the Turner family, I stopped by the house to see if you were okay and the sitter told me I could find you here," he says, waiting for me to invite him to stay. I'm not sure if I want him here or not. He hasn't been here since the funeral and I'm not really sure what he's doing here now. We just continue to stare at each other and he feels he has to explain more. "I thought maybe you could use a little company today."

"Have a seat," I say, scooting over and patting the grass. He sits beside me, stretching out his long legs and we both seem at a loss for words. What is one supposed to say in a situation like this?

"How have you been doing? I didn't get a chance to speak to again since Friday," he says and I just shrug my shoulders. "That good?"

"AJ and I made pancakes for breakfast to celebrate Mother's Day and then I came out here," I say, knowing that doesn't really answer his question.

"Nothing fell apart in the kitchen while you were cooking, did it?" he asks and I laugh just a little.

"You know if it had, I would have called you right away, sir," I say and we both fall into a more comfortable silence for a while.

"It's a beautiful day," Commander Rabb says, looking up at the sky with a sense of longing I can't even begin to imagine.

"So why are you here and not off flying?" I ask and he looks from the heavens and towards me again.

"I was going to ask you if you wanted to come and fly with me," he says and I start to laugh again, which is completely inappropriate for where we are. "What's so funny?"

"I know your history, sir. There's no way I'm going in that little plane with you," I say and he looks hurt. I know how much Bud loves flying with him but there's no way I'm going to do it. The man has crashed more things than anyone has a right to and I think Bud is nuts.

"What? Are you afraid?" he asks, giving me a gentle, playful shove.

"Afraid? Not of you, sir," I say, shoving him back and that sends us back into silence again.

"So, you're not afraid of me, just my flying?" he asks after a long pause, his voice so soft and smooth that it makes me melt as much as the warm sun. He plucks several blades of grass from between us and plays with them and I stare at his fingers.

"Just your flying," I respond.

"Good," he says and I look away his hands and back towards the marker with my daughter's name on it again.

"It was the hardest thing I ever had to do . . . leaving her here. It was so cold and lonely and I . . ." I start to tear up at the memories of that day. How numb Bud and I still were. How all our friends stood around us, a sea of uniforms without faces, mumbling their condolences. How I wanted to die, too, so I could be with her but knowing that I had to live for my son.

Commander Rabb pulls me into his arms and I find myself sobbing against his chest, getting his shirt all damp with my tears. "Shh. . . shh . . ." he whispers into my hair and I feel him place a soft kiss on my head. "It's going to be all right."

"You keep saying that," I say, sniffling now and wishing I had one of the tissues in my purse.

"That's because no matter what happens, it will be all right," he says, his fingers now running through my hair as I still hold onto him.

"I lied. I am afraid," I say and he hugs me closer. If anyone were to catch us, this would obviously be inappropriate but I don't care right now. I'm sad and lonely and he's . . . safe. But I know that's not true. If he were so safe, I wouldn't be afraid of him and I am.

"So am I, Harriet," he says but neither of us seems willing to let go of the other. "But it really will be all right."

"AJ's birthday is coming up. Do you think it will be all right to have a bunch of two and three year olds running around the house?" I ask, trying to change the subject and he has to think about it.

"That house and a bunch of two and three year olds? Maybe you should have the party elsewhere," he says and we both laugh. I sit up again and dig the tissues out of my purse, wiping the tears from my face. He takes it from my hand and blots at what must be a bit of mascara running under my eye.

"It's not been the best week of my life, sir, with the house and Bud and . . . today," I say, knowing I don't have to explain my tears to him but wanting to say something.

Then, for some reason I'll never understand, Commander Rabb leans towards me and brushes a soft, light kiss across my lips. He pulls back and we both consider each other closely. He waits on my reaction while I wait for his and in the end, we both end up smiling nervously and looking down at our laps. A few seconds later, he's tilting my face up to look in my eyes and I have no idea what he sees there right now. Confusion? Happiness? Guilt?

"Would you like to get some lunch before you have to go home?" he asks, moving his hand from my face. I miss the touch right away and feel ashamed for that. My husband has barely been gone and look at me. Then again, God only knows what Bud is doing. Whatever it is, he's not telling me about it and he certainly isn't ever going to know about his.

"I'd like that, sir," I say and he stands, reaching out his hand to help me up. After that, our hands don't part all the way to our cars.

 

PART IV  
"I can't believe you showed up, sir!" Harriet exclaims as she opens the door. The house is overrun by children and AJ is in her arms, crying about a broken toy car he's clutching onto tightly.

"I wanted to make sure nothing fell apart. I mean, besides that," I say, nodding at the toy and Harriet steps back to let me in. It doesn't look like the kids have brought the place down yet, but it's still early.

"Actually, the swing seat on the back porch fell down a few minutes ago but besides that . . ." she tries to say between AJ's howling.

"Did anyone get hurt?" I ask, frowning at the memory of the bruises I got putting that thing up.

"No, it just sort of fell down," she says and I reach out and tweak AJ's nose but that just upsets him more.

"I think he misses his daddy," Harriet says softly, kissing her son on the cheek.

"I'm sorry," I say and I'm not sure whether it's directed at her or AJ.

"I really have to take care of him, sir" she says, trying to get AJ to quiet down by switching him from arm to arm and bouncing him. He's not easily placated and she's still losing the battle of wills quickly. "The gifts go in the dining room and most of the adults are hiding out in the kitchen. Oh, and out on the porch so if you go out there, just don't tell them you're responsible for the swing and you'll be okay."

"Thanks, Harriet," I say, watching her walk towards a quieter part of the house.

I drop off the present on the dining room table and go into the kitchen looking for some friendly faces who are also over the age of 25. Mac is standing in there, alone, sipping a diet soda and looking out the big window over the sink.

"Hey there," I say, standing behind her as I try to ascertain what it is she's staring at exactly. "What's going on out there?"

"The Admiral is teaching the kids a few things about baseball," she says and I look out to see him surrounded by the older kids here today. Judging from the motions he's going through, he's demonstrating a few pitching techniques.

"I'm glad everyone is here today," I say and Mac turns around, placing her squarely in front of me and barely half a foot away.

"I figured with Bud gone, Harriet might need some support and company of the adult nature," Mac says, cocking her head to the side. "Why are you here? Did something break . . . oh, the swing fell down. Was that your handiwork?"

"No," I lie as I move away from her. "I'm here for the same reason as you. Support or whatever."

We both say nothing for several minutes as I pick at the food and she helps a few kids who wander in for drinks. She's so good with them, chatting the whole time and asking them questions about the neighborhood and about school. She tells them she's a Marine and they all seem duly impressed by that. I find myself smiling at her as she sends them all off.

"What?" she asks, catching my grin.

"You're good with children. I mean, I know you're great with Chloe but you're good with all kids," I say and she smiles nervously and takes a bite of some appetizer Harriet has out on the kitchen table. "Ever think again about having one?"

She considers the question for a moment and then shrugs her shoulders. "Mic and I discussed it, of course. We were hours away from getting married, you know."

"I know."

"That's one thing I really regret. Mic would have made a good father," she says, now digging nervously around some dip with a chip. "How about you and Renee?"

"Renee? Well, she brought it up a number of times. I just wasn't ready for that . . . with her. She was ready, though. She and the grim reaper are expecting soon," I say, smiling at the notion of Renee raising her family under the roof of a funeral home. There's just something so dysfunctional about it all.

"But to answer your question, yes, I think about it a lot," Mac says, giving up on the food on the table. Instead, she leans against the counter and crosses her arms over her chest. "Time really running out on the possibility and all that. How about you?"

"I think . . . watching Harriet these last few weeks with Bud gone . . . that I . . ." I start, trying to pick my words carefully. I know what was said between us years ago about children and now I know it was a pretty absurd thing to consider. Two people can't go halves on a kid. It's too much work and the child deserves so much more. "I think I would want it all before I brought a child into the world. The marriage and the house and the person I want to spend forever with."

Mac says nothing for a long, uncomfortable pause, swallowing hard before she finally does speak. "Do you think you're ever going to find all of that?"

"Not where I'm looking," I say and Mac gives me a puzzled look. Before she can ask more questions, Harriet hurries into the kitchen, stopping when she sees the two of us alone.

"Sir, ma'am -- am I interrupting anything? I just need to get a juice cup for AJ," she says, not moving at all.

"No, Harriet. You're fine. You're not interrupting anything at all," Mac says, not taking her eyes off of me.

"I hope you two are enjoying yourselves. I just have to get AJ to calm down away from people for a bit and then we'll be back for cake and presents," Harriet says, taking a bottle of juice from the refrigerator and then digging around for a cup in the one cabinet that has nothing but plastic dishes in it. When I helped Harriet unpack, I wasn't even certain she had real dishes and she laughed when I asked, telling me that was what life was like with a child. I'm learning so much lately. Too much.

"We're fine," I say and Mac excuses herself to go visit with some people out on the porch. "After everyone is gone, I'll see if I can get the swing back up again."

"You don't have to do that today if you don't want to," Harriet says, screwing the lid on the cup and cleaning up the counter. "I know how hard it was to put that thing up and if you just want to go home when the party is over, you can."

"I want to fix it and . . . I want to stay," I say. She turns and smiles at me nervously, taking a step in my direction. Before she can get too far, a baseball comes flying through the kitchen window, sending glass everywhere. We both peer out the window to find a rather sheepish looking Admiral Chegwidden staring back at us from the middle of the yard.

"And here we thought it was going to be the kids who were going to bring the house down," Harriet says, shaking her head in disbelief as we both start laughing.

***********

I wake up with a start when a different voice on the television begins talking and after realizing it's just a character from one of AJ's tapes, I rest my head down on the arm of the couch again and close my eyes. I'm so exhausted from today that I don't even remember Commander Rabb leaving. My eyes fly open at that thought and I find him sleeping at the other end of the couch from me with AJ nestled in between us.

It was late by the time we got everything cleaned up and the emergency glazier showed up, charging plenty for a Saturday evening visit and not even fixing it. The Commander went out to repair the swing while I settled on the couch with AJ and we must have fallen asleep. I don't know when he joined us but now he looks so nice and comfortable and I don't really want to wake him.

Trying to get up to put AJ in his bed, I accidentally jostle Commander Rabb and he sits up quickly, looking very embarrassed when he realizes where he's at.

"I'm going to go put AJ to bed and I'll be right back, sir," I say softly, carrying my sleeping son off like a sack of potatoes. When I return, he's still sitting on the couch, staring at the television.

"What is this?" he asks and I focus on the TV to see just how far the big tape of everything ran.

"It's still 'Little Bear,' sir," I say and he yawns. "It can put the most hardened insomniac to sleep after five minutes. I like to use it to calm AJ down."

"I can see why," he says and I sit back down on the other end of the couch. "I didn't mean to fall asleep. I just sat down for a second hoping you'd wake up so I could say goodbye and tell you that swing shouldn't fall out again."

"That's okay, sir. I don't mind the company," I say, reaching for the remote and stopping the tape. I flip through the channels until I get to the digital music stations but I realize I'm not quiet certain what he would like to listen to. He must sense what I'm thinking because he has me stop on some station playing oldies. That's good for background noise. What we would need background noise for, I'm not sure, but it will work.

"It was a nice party," he says, making small talk and I nod in agreement.

"It was very nice. I think everyone had a good time," I say and now he nods in agreement. "Except maybe the Admiral. That man has quite a pitching arm."

"Yes, he does," he says and then we both find that we have nothing to say. I don't know whether that is good or bad because I'm afraid of what we might say. My heart beats hard in anticipation and I'm not sure what it's waiting for. I look at him to find that he's staring at me with this look I haven't seen in years and I find it hard to swallow. How can we even be thinking these things? I don't know but we both are.

"Commander . . ."

"Stop that . . ." he says and I look away from him and away from that look.

"Stop what?"

"Using my title to keep this all in proper perspective," he says and I stare at the logo of the digital music company flitting across my television screen, not wanting to look back towards him.

"How else do you suggest we keep this proper? Sir, I've only been married for four years and . . . oh, God. I want something I can't have and it would hurt someone else so much and I . . ." I say, stammering along with my incoherent thoughts.

"Not to mention what it would do to our careers," he says, moving over and reaching for my hand, holding onto it tightly. I love his touch and his large warm hands that cover mine so completely.

"That's the least of it, sir . . . Harm. When I asked for your help, I never intended for this to happen. You have to trust me on that one," I say, finally looking at him again.

"When Bud got his orders to report to the Seahawk, I never sat around thinking, 'oh, I can seduce his wife while he's away.' You have to believe me, Harriet. Whatever it is that happened -- that's happening now -- it just happened," he says and I find it hard to discuss Bud with him anymore.

"How do we stop it, sir?" I ask and he pouts a little when I return to the use of sir so quickly. I trace my fingertip across those pouting lips, wishing I could feel them on mine again. It's wrong and I know it but I can't help it.

"Maybe we don't," he says, taking my hand away from his face and leaning in for a kiss. This time it isn't a soft, fleeting brush of lips but far more passionate and intense. God, I haven't kissed like this for years and my hands wrap around his neck, pulling him to me, wanting more. We can end it with this kiss. We have to.

But I want this kiss.

He maneuvers me until I'm on his lap, straddling his hips, our kiss intensifying as his tongue searches out mine. His hands wander over my body, moving quickly over my breasts and my waist and finally settling on my hips. Pulling me even closer, I feel his hardness between my legs and I gasp, breaking the kiss. We just stare at each other, a look of intense surprise washing over both of our faces, as I continue to rise and fall on him, touching but not touching at the same time.

A sudden noise behind me makes me jump up from his lap and I realize exactly what it is I'm doing while my son is home. I can't. It would be one thing if Bud found out but AJ . . . he can never know about this. Never. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and we both continue to stare at each other as guilt spreads across his face. I'm sure my face is painted scarlet with it.

"I think . . . I better go now," he says, standing up and adjusting his jeans so it's not so obvious what we were doing.

"That would probably be for the best, Commander Rabb," I say and he knows exactly what I mean by that this time. He leaves me, not alone but lonely in my big house, and I slump down onto the couch in tears. I just wish I knew exactly what was upsetting me more -- the fact that we did something we shouldn't have or the fact that he left before it could have gone further.

***********

PART V  
I peek out at the clock before pulling my comforter back over my head. It's late in the afternoon already and I still haven't bothered to get out of bed. I guess I'm not going to the airstrip today like I had planned. After last night, I just didn't feel like rolling out of bed this morning. It's just so much easier not think about it all when I'm asleep.

The problem is she's now in my thoughts and my dreams all the time. They're such good dreams, too. Damn it. I take my pillow and pile that over my head also as if that's going to help any. I'm lying here with my eyes wide open when I hear someone knocking on my front door. Good. Maybe it's Sturgis looking to do something and that will provide me with a diversion from my thoughts.

"Coming," I say, fumbling to get on a pair of jeans while walking to the door. They keep knocking. "I'll be right there!"

I pull the door open and instead of finding Turner there, I find Harriet looking all sorts of confused.

"Can I come in, sir?" she asks.

"Sure," I say, stepping back to let her in.

"Did I wake you?"

"Not exactly," I say, wishing I had also grabbed a shirt on my way to the door.

She stands in the middle of my apartment and I can tell she's given a lot of thought to what she's planning on saying next. She probably rehearsed it the whole way over here and I already know what she's going to say.

"I'm sorry about last night, sir," she says and I was right.

"So am I, Harriet. It was wrong and . . ." I start to say and she stops me with a shake of her head.

"That's not what I was going to say, sir. What I was going to say was I'm sorry that I ended it where I did. It's just that I can't do that in my house because soon it will be his house, too. And I can't do that with AJ around. I just can't," she says and now I'm sure I'm the one who looks confused.

"I understand," I say, lying because I have no idea what she's talking about.

"What I'm saying is I can't do that there . . . but I can here," she says, her eyes meeting mine and holding my gaze without a glimmer of doubt flickering through them. She takes a step towards me and I find that I can't move at all.

"Where's AJ?"

"I hired one of the teenage girls who lives on our street to babysit him," she answers.

"On such short notice?"

"I promised her ten dollars an hour and told her it would probably be very late by the time I got home. She seemed happy with that deal," she says, still moving towards me.

"Harriet . . . are you sure?" I ask, feeling my heart thump hard in my chest.

"No."

"Then why?"

"Because it's the only thing I've been able to think about since last night. Because I want this. I want to know," she says, stopping right in front of me.

"Know what?" I ask and she rests her hands on my chest, her fingers dancing around on my skin.

"What you feel like. Sound like. Taste like," she says, her voice wobbling a bit, my head spinning a lot. I have to swallow past the huge lump in my throat before I can say another word.

"Jesus, Harriet," I manage to get out right before she pulls my face down for a kiss. For a second I'm convinced I'm still dreaming but this is too real. She's here with me and my arms are around her as we both stumble towards my bed. I don't know how we make it there without tripping over anything but we do and I fall backwards on it, finally ending our kiss.

She joins me quickly, crawling up my body until our mouths are joined again. My hands begin to pull at her clothes and she sits up, straddling me, and begins to unbutton her blouse. I stop her.

"Let me," I say, moving her off of my lap as I sit up. "I want to undress you."

Harriet gets off the bed and stands before me. My fingers tremble through each button. She shrugs the shirt off and then I give her one last look before unfastening her bra to make sure she still wants this. She nods and I unfasten it, letting it slip down her arms.

Pulling her to me, I circle my tongue over a nipple, feeling it harden with my touch. Her hands go up to my head and she pulls me closer, urging me to go on. I draw it into my mouth, sucking gently, and she sighs from the sensation.

I move from one breast to the other while my fingers work at the fastening on her pants. I finally get it and push them down, only then sitting back to look at her. She seems a little self conscious when I do this and crosses her arms over herself.

"You're beautiful," I say, wrapping my hands around her waist and pulling her back to me.

"You're blind," she says with a nervous giggle.

"No, I'm not," I say, tugging at her panties. She steps out of them, exposing herself completely to me, and my eyes wander over her entire body. "You're beautiful."

"How can you do that, sir?" she asks and I want to laugh at her use of 'sir' but I don't. That's just Harriet and there is no way to change her.

"Do what?" I ask, confused.

"With just your eyes, you make me feel like I am the most beautiful woman you've ever been with. How do you do that?" she asks.

"Maybe you are . . ."

"Sir . . ." she starts to say but instead of protesting more, she drops to her knees in front of me. I part my thighs and she moves right on in, her fingers working on my button fly. She gets it easily and I push my hips up so she can pull them off, taking my boxers, too.

Her fingers wrap around my cock and she begins to slide her hand up and down in a perfect combination of rhythm and force, making me grow hard quickly. Her other hand massages my balls and I can't fight the deep groan that comes from my chest. Only then does she break our eye contact as her head goes down and her tongue flicks across my erection. My hands fly to her head and I fight the urge to push her down in my need for more of her mouth.

Finally, her lips do replace her moving hand and all she does is hold onto the base as she takes me all the way into her mouth. I watch as her blonde head moves over my lap and I still can't believe this is happening. I can't believe I want it this much.

She moves with expertise and I try not to think of the person who is the usual recipient of her attentions. I don't want to think right now. I'll think later.

Pulling my ass further off the bed, her fingers go exploring as her mouth continues to do wonderful things to me. I don't want this to end here no matter how good it would feel to come in her mouth right now. I want to give her more. She deserves so much more considering . . .

"Harriet . . . you've got to stop right now if you want to . . . you just have to stop," I say and she does, resting back on her heels and giving me a devilish grin, her lips wet from me.

"Did you enjoy that . . . 'sir'?" she asks, throwing in that little extra sir just for effect.

"That was fantastic. Now get up here," I say, pulling her onto the bed. We lie facing each other and my hand travels down her body and between her thighs, finding the spot that makes her eyes flutter shut with my touch. She's so wet already and I ache to be in there but I want this to be good for her, too. I want to be good to her.

She grinds her hips faster against my hand and I love the expression on her face as she nears release. I lean in and kiss her, my tongue parting her lips as my fingers part her folds, seeking out more. My thumb still dances across her clit as I delve further into her wetness, picking up speed with each demanding moan she makes against my mouth. Her nails claw my back as she tries to get a hold of something and I know it won't be long.

She gasps, throwing her head back, and I feel her release quake around my fingers. Opening her eyes, she stares into mine and I've never wanted anyone more than I do right now.

"Come here," I say, rolling onto my back. I try to pull up onto my lap but she stops me.

"Hold on . . . do you have anything? I mean, do you have protection?" she asks and I nod, reaching over to my nightstand where I keep the condoms. She takes them from me and I watch as she unwraps one before rolling it down over my cock. "I haven't been on birth control pills since . . . well, for a while."

"That's okay," I say as she pushes the foil wrapper off the bed. Now she straddles me and I guide myself into her sex, my eyes closing when she sinks all the way down onto me. "That's so okay."

Harriet moves above me, up and down with such ease. I feel her lean back, her hands resting behind her on my thighs and I have to look. I have to touch. Although it's just been a few minutes since she last came, I touch her clit again, stroking her harder this time. She gasps for air and moans through each thrust and the room starts spinning on me again.

Clenching all her muscles around me, I find it hard to hold off but I do. I want her come again, with me inside of her. Biting my bottom lip, I continue to touch her and she bounces on my cock as she grinds against my hand, her hips making these circling motions.

"Are you close, sir?" she asks and I don't know how I've lasted this long. Thank God I'm as old as I am now.

"Call . . . me . . . Harm . . ." I struggle to get out.

"Harm . . . oh yes!" she says, crying out my name as she comes again. The feel of her inner walls contracting around me is enough to send me over the edge and I come hard into her. All the muscles in my body tighten up as my orgasm rips through me and I clutch at the bedding around me. Harriet falls forwards against me, our bodies now slick with sweat. "I . . . that was . . ."

She can't seem to find the words for what we just did while I can think of several.

*************

Waking up, I find a pair of unfamiliar arms wrapped around me, holding me tight. Oh, God. I also feel the beginnings of an erection pressing against my lower back and I move forwards just a little. The rooms is still heavily scented of me and of . . . Harm and . . . oh, God.

I try to slip away but before I can, he wakes up and rolls me over so I'm facing him. He smiles this beautiful smile at me and it makes my heart ache with emotion. Longing and guilt are all rolled up into one and I finally utter what keeps going through my mind. "Oh, God."

He moves a warm hand up to stroke my cheek and if I look closely enough, I can see the guilt hidden in those eyes and behind that smile. "Harriet . . ."

"Oh, God," I say again and he pulls me close, holding onto me tighter than anyone has ever held me before.

"It's going to be all right," he says and I'm not so sure of that. No, I'm sure it's not going to be all right at all.

"How can you say that? I just slept with a superior officer and . . . and worse than that, my husband's best friend. How can you possibly say it's going to be all right?" I ask, pulling away from him.

But that's not really the worst thing about it. The worst thing is I'd do it again right now. I'm not sure why I did it in the first place or why I'd do it again. I love Bud but he's still lying to me about Petty Officer Coates. And all this time, he's been mad at me for lying to him about the house. I hope he's happy now that I'll be lying to him about something so much bigger than the few thousand dollars my dad lent me.

"We'll work it out," he says as if that's such an easy proposition. How does one work out an affair? I wouldn't know because I never thought I'd have one.

I roll over to look at the clock and I can't believe how long I've been here. I'm going to have to stop at the ATM machine on the way home to get more cash for the sitter.

"Can I take a shower before I go home?" I ask, forcing myself to drop the 'sir.' I can do that at work but not here. Not in his bed. He can no longer just be Commander Rabb ever again.

"Go ahead. There's a clean towel in there," he says, watching as I climb out of the bed. I pull off the top sheet, wrapping it around me as I walk into his bath area. This is something only a bachelor would put into their apartment because it certainly isn't that practical.

I toss the sheet out and turn on the water, drenching myself under the warm spray. I want to feel clean again but I know it's going to take more than a shower to do it. I'm going to have to tell Bud. Eventually. Someday. It's going to break his heart. All he was doing was trying to advance his career by taking this assignment and look what I did. He'll never trust me again and he has every right to not do so.

"Can I join you?" Harm asks, pulling me from my thoughts.

"It's your shower," I say without looking at him. He steps in behind me and wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me close. His body feels so good next to mine and I sink into his touch. We rock under the spray, neither of us saying a word for a long time. What is there to say at this point?

He turns me around and I find myself taking a good look at his wet body. He could have so many women and yet here he is with me. I don't know why. Maybe I'm safe because I'm married. I won't bother him about a commitment or children or any of those other things I'm sure he's afraid of.

"What?" he asks. I'm smiling now as I take the soap and lather him up.

"You."

"What about me?" he asks, taking the bar of soap out of my hand and using it on me in return.

"You get yourself into plenty of stupid situations and this is one of them," I say and now he grins back at me.

"I always get out unscathed. Trust me, I've been in worse situations then showering with a beautiful woman," he says and I just shake my head at his craziness.

He kisses me, our slippery bodies meeting under the water. A sweet ache forms in my lower abdomen and I want to feel him inside of me again. I want it even though I know it has to be the last time. His erection glides across my slick stomach and I press harder against it, loving the look on his face right now. He wants me as much as I want him.

Pushing me against the wall, he sinks to his knees and pulls my one leg over his shoulder. He looks up to me as if seeking my permission to do what he's going to do next and I can't help but lace my fingers through his wet, short hair and pull him close.

His tongue darts out and flicks against me and I nearly sink down the wall from the feeling. There's so many sensations going on all at once with the water and the warmth and his tongue. . . . God, his tongue. He continues to work his mouth against me, sometimes sucking, sometimes licking, and I can't help but to grind against his face, seeking even more.

Rocking my head back and forth against the wall, I feel my legs turn to rubber as I get close. I want him in me but I want this, too. I'm greedy and I know he can make me come again. He did before.

He moves my leg and I feel his tongue dip in between my folds, taking a quick taste before returning to my clitoris. Within a few seconds, I'm calling out his name again as I come, wanting to slip down the wall. He doesn't move his mouth away and my orgasm just keeps rocking through my body until I can no longer stand it. Pushing him away, I sink to my knees in front of him, collapsing in his arms.

"I want you," I say, my voice raspy with desire. I wrap my hand around his penis, firmly stroking him, and I'm tempted to straddle him right here on the shower floor and let him in. I know I can't make that kind of mistake.

Letting go, we both stand up and make our way to the bed, soaking the sheets with our bodies. The water is still running and the room is now choked with steam but I want him right now. Harm fumbles around with a condom for a second before lowering himself between my legs and sinking into me. There's nothing slow and gentle about his actions as he pounds in and out, moving my legs just right so he bangs against my clitoris with every thrust.

Our wet bodies slap together as he moves faster and faster and I feel another orgasm building up deep inside. He moves me again and hits me at just the right angle that I come undone, the room swirling around me. Oh, God . . . what is he doing to me and how?

Before he comes, he pulls out of me and turns me over, entering me from behind. I don't normally like this but at this point, it all feels so damn good that I'd do anything he wanted to. His hands wrap around my hips and I bury my face in a pillow as he buries himself into me. He's in so deep that I swear I can feel it in my chest and I dig my nails into the bedding, fighting for something to hold onto.

It's not much longer before his thrusts grow erratic and I know he's close. His breathing is so loud I could swear he's right next to my ear and when he comes, he growls and moans and I clench tight around him, not quite ready to let go of this.

We both fall into a heap on the bed and I sigh when he pulls out of me, missing him already. My body aches from everything we've done but it's an incredible ache that I haven't felt in a long time. I'm exhausted yet there's a buzz of energy flowing through me at the same time. And I'm sure by now despite the shower that I look like I've just been fucked good. I can never use this sitter again after she sees me tonight.

"I need to go soon," I say, not wanting to leave but knowing I can't stay much longer. I can't afford to stay much longer.

"I know. Are you going to be okay?" he asks and I'm not quite sure if I am going to be or not. Right here, right now, all wrapped up in his arms, I am but once I leave here, I'm sure I'm not going to feel the same.

"I don't know yet," I say, rolling so that I'm facing him and getting lost in his embrace.

"Call me if you need me," he says and I nod my head, knowing that I should never call him for anything ever again.

"I will," I lie before forcing myself to pull away from his arms. We both get up as I dress and he disappears into the shower. The water must be freezing by now but he doesn't come back out. I watch his silouhetted form through the glass for a minute, wishing I could stay here. Finally, I call out a goodbye and don't even wait for a response before going out the door.

*************

PART VI  
Staring at paperwork before me, my eyes can't quite focus on a single word. I can't even think straight today after not sleeping all last night. I tried to after Harriet left my bed but I couldn't. My mind just kept replaying it all over and over, trying to justify what happened in some way.

I had to be out of the office all morning but I could only avoid this place for so long. Now I'm back and buried in these damn papers. My eyes keep moving from my desk to the bullpen but so far I haven't caught a glimpse of her. Maybe she's out to lunch. I don't know what I would say to her right now anyway.

Flipping through the files on my desk, I hope to find something that holds my attention for more than one minute. There's nothing in this pile that looks remotely interesting. Leaning back in my chair, I close my eyes for just a moment and in that time, images of her flood my thoughts. Harriet over me and under me and with her mouth wrapped around me. God, what have I done. . .

"Excuse me, sir," someone says from my doorway and my eyes fly open to find Tiner standing there. I have no idea how long he's been there or how long I've been daydreaming. It doesn't matter because Tiner would never say anything anyway. "The Admiral wants you to look these over before your meeting at 1400 hours."

I sit up straight in my chair and watch as he puts a huge pile of files on top of the ones already covering my desk. "What meeting?" I ask, looking over quickly to my appointment book. There's nothing in there.

"The one he just scheduled at the request of the SecNav, sir," he says and I just nod, knowing anything with the SecNav can't be good. Tiner turns to leave but I stop him.

"Hey, Tiner . . . have you seen Lieutenant Sims anywhere?" I ask, trying to control the tone of my voice. I'm probably the only one who would notice how it wavers as I say her name.

"She called in sick, sir," Tiner answers and now it's not only my voice that I have to worry about but the expression on my face as well. "She probably has the same thing that little AJ had a few weeks ago."

"Um . . . thank you, Tiner. That will be all," I say and he leaves me alone with my thoughts. I know what Harriet has and I know it has nothing to do with what AJ had. She couldn't even stand to be in the same office with me. I know I said everything was going to be all right but now I'm not so sure.

I reach for the phone, knowing that I have to say something to her but before I can dial, Mac stops at my office door. "I was told I could find a pile of paperwork in your office that we need to review before a meeting. I take it those are the files?" she asks, nodding at the stack Tiner just left.

"Come in," I say, setting the phone back down. I'll have to call her later. "Do you know what any of this about?"

"I'm completely clueless as to what's going on," she says, grabbing the one on top and skimming through it.

"Yeah," I say, taking the next one on the pile. Before I can even get it open, I see Clayton Webb walk quickly through the bullpen in the direction of the Admiral's office. "This can't be good."

Mac barely gets a glimpse of him before she disappears and her attention returns completely to the file in her hands. I continue to watch her but she doesn't look up at me or out of the office.

"It's rarely good if Webb's involved," she mumbles, flipping through the pages quickly.

"Webb and the SecNav. Do you think we did anything wrong?" I ask and she doesn't say a word.

"I know I haven't done anything wrong. Listen, I'm going to go read some of these in my office," she says, gathering up half the files and disappearing before I can say another word. Great. Everyone is pissed at me today and I haven't even seen the SecNav yet. He's always pissed at me.

I can finally make that call but before I can reach the phone, it rings. "Commander Rabb," I say as I pick it up.

"Sir, that meeting with the Admiral has been moved up to now," Tiner says on the other end. "Can you inform Colonel MacKenzie?"

"We'll be right in," I say, setting the phone down and sighing. Damn. I know whatever this is, it isn't going to go well.

************

Someone is ringing my doorbell and I'm pretty sure I know who it is. I ignore it for a bit but then he starts knocking and calling my name and I don't want the whole neighborhood to notice. Not like the flashy red 'Vette that's been in my driveway way too much lately isn't enough for them to notice. Half of them probably think he's my husband by now.

I finally pull myself off the couch and drag myself to the door, pulling it open to find Commander Rabb mid knock. I told myself I had to call him that or else it could just happen again so easily.

"Are you okay?" he asks and that's enough to send me into tears again. "Apparently not."

I'm not sure whether I should let him in or not but I really don't want anyone to see me on my front porch crying so I step back, letting him enter. He takes off his cover and tucks in under his arm but doesn't move from the entrance way.

"I'll be all right," I say, and he looks away from me. I wipe up my tears and force myself to stop crying right now. "Isn't that what you keep telling me? Everything will be all right?"

"It will be."

"And you believe that?" I ask, fighting this wish I have that he'd just take me in his arms and make me forget how awful it's been since I left him.

"I have to believe it, Harriet. I have to believe that there's some reason to this mess we're in," he says and I laugh a little.

"See, if it were all right, it wouldn't be a mess, now would it, sir?" I ask and he shakes his head.

"It's going to be a mess and I don't know how to avoid that now," he says softly and I look down at the floor. I'm wearing my bedroom slippers and my robe and I must look quite the sight. I dropped AJ off at daycare this morning and came back home, not able to face the office just yet. I know it's insane but I was afraid someone would be able to tell what we had done by the way we look and talk to each other. Colonel MacKenzie knew when Bud and I were first together and I can't have her guessing about this. And then there's Lieutenant Singer. She always seems to know everything and would use this in so many ways to her advantage . . . I just couldn't go in yet.

"Would you like to sit down? Can I get you something to drink?" I ask, knowing he and I could stand right here discussing this same thing forever and not get anywhere.

"I'm fine. I don't want to make you uncomfortable," he says and we both look at each other and I laugh just a little.

"Sir, I think after some of the things we did together yesterday, there's nothing you could do right now that would make me exactly comfortable," I say and he blushes at my mention of yesterday. He tries to look away and hide it but he's actually blushing. "Come in and sit down."

He follows me into the family room. He slips off his jacket and I take it and his cover, stowing them away as he sits down on the wing chair instead of the couch he slept on the other night. I take the couch, curling my legs up under me.

"I can't stay long," he says.

"No, you can't," I say and he cocks his head at my remark. "I have to pick up AJ before the daycare closes. They charge by the minute if I'm late."

"And I have to catch a hop to Italy tonight," he says and I know what's coming next. I can feel what coming next and I draw in a breath and hold it. "And then I have to go out to the Seahawk."

"Why, sir?" I ask after exhaling sharply.

"I'm not at liberty to discuss it but Mac and I have to leave tonight," he says and I don't know what to say. "I just wanted to stop by and make sure that you're okay. That you're going to be okay."

"What are you going to tell him?" I ask and he looks away and towards the wall where I have all the family pictures hanging.

"What do you want me to tell him?" he asks and I know it's certainly not his job to tell Bud about this. It's my job. I've kept big secrets from him in the past and I know if I wanted to, I could go forever without telling him about this. Maybe that would be the best thing to do. Maybe Bud's next assignment will be somewhere in Europe and we can all move and I can get away from this guilt.

Then again, I'm not sure I'm ready to get away just yet and this time, I have an accomplice in my deceit. And I still want him. I shouldn't, but I do.

"Don't tell him anything," I say and Harm nods, his eyes still focused on the portraits. "Don't tell him anything because I'm not ready to give you up."

"Harriet . . ." he says, his attention back on me now. His eyebrow arches up, waiting for me to go on.

"Was it just a fuck, sir?" I ask and he shakes his head. I know he's telling the truth because I've been with men . . . boys . . . where it was just a fuck and I know the difference. "You know, in a way it would be easier if it were."

"Why is that?"

"Because sex is one thing but intimacy is another matter entirely. You and I have now shared things beyond sex and it just makes it worse," I say and he doesn't say anything for a long time. Instead, he watches me, his eyes flashing with emotion.

"Do you know how much I want you right now?" he asks and that makes my heart start thumping away. Before I can stop myself, I'm off the couch and straddling his lap in the chair.

"As much as I want you?" I ask as my fingers begin to play with the knot in his tie.

"You said not in your house," he reminds me and right now, with him under me, I don't care where we are.

"Since you have to leave, we'll make an exception this time," I say, pulling off his tie and casting it aside. I begin to unbutton his shirt but his hands reach for mine, stopping me.

"Harriet, can you do something for me?" he asks and I nod. "Could you please not call me 'sir' while we're doing this. It makes me feel like, I don't know . . . it just doesn't sound right."

"Okay, Harm," I say. He lets go of my hands and I continue to unbutton his shirt. He unfastens the belt on my robe and pushes it off. Underneath it, I'm dressed in just a very big old T-shirt. He doesn't seem to care about what I'm wearing as our hands and arms get in the way, trying to get the other undressed first. Tugging at my shirt, he pulls it up and over my head. I give up on his shirt after baring his chest and I slide back to work on his fly. He starts to harden under my touch and I stare into his eyes, glazed over now with desire.

I sit up enough to slide my panties off as he yanks his pants and boxers down to his ankles. I'm back on him before I can even think about what I'm doing, letting his penis brush against the outside of my sex. I settle down on him, letting him push in and it feels so good. Too good. He grabs my arms and lifts me up.

"Harriet, do you have protection here . . . something . . ." he starts to ask and I'm tempted to just forget that this time, too. He won't let me, his eyes pleading with me not to let it go that far. This is dangerous enough.

I leave the warmth of his lap and race upstairs, hoping I can find the box of condoms I remember packing during the move. I find them in a box of stuff yet unpacked under the bathroom sink and I rush back downstairs, finding him sitting in the chair, his hand leisureIy stroking his penis to keep it hard and ready for me.

"Here," I say, unwrapping a condom and rolling it down his length.

He pulls me to him and this time I let him sink in, enjoying the sensation of being filled so completely. My hands go to his shoulders for leverage and I begin to rise and fall on him, our eyes locked. His hands cup my breasts, squeezing them gently as we continue our motions. I kiss him, wanting his mouth on mine, and his lips part, allowing me to explore. As I do that, one of his hands move down to the apex of my sex and begins to circle slowly.

I don't want this to end. I don't want him to go away, especially to where he's going. Both of them there . . . I don't want to think about it. Instead, I think about the man under me and the way his mouth feels on mine and how his fingers move just right. I pull away, no longer able to concentrate on both his mouth and the other things he's doing to me.

I feel everything begin to tighten up in my abdomen and I know I'm not going to be able to last much longer. Judging from the look on his face, neither is he. Another couple of thrusts and I topple towards him, feeling the waves of pleasure roll through my body. I move just enough to bring him to orgasm and he lets out a groan as his body shudders under mine. It was fast but it was still good.

We both stay there, his arms wrapped around me, not speaking a word for the longest time. Finally, one of us has to break the silence.

"I have to go," he says, and I lean back to look at him. I brush a fingertip across his mouth and then kiss him again, wishing that he didn't have to go.

"I have to pick up AJ and I probably should put some clothes on for that," I say, letting him slip out of me. I stand and gather up my bathrobe, slipping it on again. He takes off the condom and pulls his pants up, disappearing long enough to dispose of it in the trash. I watch him as he gets back into uniform, carefully adjusting everything so he doesn't look like we just did what we did. The scent of him and his sweaty hair give it away.

"I have to get home and change out of this uniform," he says, trying to get the crease in the pants to lay right.

"And you should probably take a shower before you go," I say and he nods in agreement. I hand him his jacket and his cover and he's ready to leave me here.

"Hey, do I owe you money for yesterday?" he asks and I know I look shocked. What in the hell is he implying? "You know . . . for the sitter?"

"Oh, that! Your half would be about 50 bucks," I say and now his eyes grow wide. "I was gone a long time, with driving and stoping at the bank. And well, you know . . ."

"I know."

"Was it worth it?" I ask. I have to ask. I don't know why.

He pulls out his wallet and begins to count off bills. If anyone were here to see this . . . there'd be no explaining it. He places the money in my hand and I tuck it into the pocket of my robe.

"It was worth every single cent," he says, leaning down to give me a goodbye kiss before heading towards the door.

*************

PART VII  
I catch sight of Bud and I quickly turn around to go the other way. We've been busy so I've avoided any private conversations with him since I've come aboard but now my time is running out.

"Commander Rabb!" Bud calls out and I stop my escape, cursing under my breath. "I'm glad I caught you, sir. I was heading to get some chow. You want to come with?"

"Sure," I say, avoiding direct eye contact with him. I'll have to work up to that but I don't think I'm ready just yet.

"We haven't had time to talk yet and I wanted to ask you a question," he says as we go into the officer's mess.

"What is it?" I ask, my imagination running wild already. He couldn't possibly know what I'm doing with his wife unless she told him and I can't imagine her doing that long distance.

"Do you have any idea what's wrong with Harriet lately? he asks and I look at anything but him.

"What do you mean, Bud?" I ask, treading carefully. I don't want to say anything I shouldn't and there's so much right now that I could say that would be wrong.

"She's been kind of distant in our recent e-mails. She tells me about AJ's day but doesn't really tell me anything else. I know she's still mad about the house but could she really be that mad? Do you think something else might be wrong? Is there a problem at the office or something?"

"I wouldn't know . . ." I say, trying to end this but he keeps going on.

"I asked Colonel MacKenzie but she said I should ask you," Bud says and for a brief second, I panic that Mac knows something. How could she? Well, besides the fact that Mac always knows something. I have to tell him something. Anything.

"You have to tell her about Petty Officer Coates, Bud," I blurt out and he just shakes his head.

"What do you mean?"

"She knows that you two are working together. She found out in a file that was sent to headquarters a few weeks ago," I say and Bud falls silent as we get our food.

"There's nothing to tell, sir. So my Legalman is a woman. It's no big deal. It's not like there's anything going on," Bud says as we look for a place to sit and eat. I can't tell if he's lying or not but I can't imagine that he would lie to me. He trusts me and considers me his best friend. My chest tightens up at that thought and I wish I could just get out of here. Instead, he looks at me as if I have all the answers.

"It is a big deal to her, Bud," I say and I have no fucking clue why I'm trying to make him do the right thing. Soon he'll be back and she's probably going to tell him and he's going to hate me. Yet here I am, trying to fix everything. "She thinks that since you've said nothing about her, it implies that you're trying to hide something."

"Well, I'm not trying to hide anything, sir. Not like she did with money she borrowed from her father. She went a long way to hide that from me," he says, sounding far more angry about the situation than I thought he would.

"It's the house of her dreams. She wanted it pretty badly and once you see it, you'll understand why," I say, taking a bite of my dinner even though I have no appetite.

"Harriet sent pictures of it and it really is nice, but I trusted you to do the right thing in my absence," Bud says and I nearly choke on the food I have in my mouth.

"What?" I mutter, reaching for my glass of water to wash it down.

"That wasn't why I gave her power of attorney and you let her get away with it," he says, looking slightly miffed at me.

"It's done now, Bud and I think once you get back and see it . . ."

"I'm supposed to take care of her, not her father. I'm supposed to provide everything for her," he says, not able to let it go. "She's my wife and that's my job. No one else is supposed to take care of her."

"Yeah," I say, looking down at my food. I haven't been hungry in days and being here with him isn't helping matters any. This whole crisis has been stressful enough without this added to it.

"Harriet doesn't mention you being around much anymore when we chat on-line. Are you done with the late night repairs of the plumbing?" Bud asks. God, he has no clue and I almost wish he'd find out so I could let go of some of the guilt. How fucking selfish of me. It will destroy him but it will make me feel better.

"Something like that," I say, watching him devour his meal while I just pick at mine.

"I really want to thank you for taking care of everything these last few months and for taking care of Harriet," he says and now I can't help but to stare at him, wondering what he's going to think of those words when the day comes that he finally finds out.

"No problem," I say, wishing to God that this conversation was over already.

"It will be nice to get home to her and AJ even if she's still mad at me. Only a little while longer and we'll all be together again," Bud says, this dreamy look crossing over his face.

He has a few more months until he gets back to her. I only have a few more days and it's killing me. I'm sitting here with her husband and I still want her. I need her. I was hoping that distance and my present company would make that feeling go away but it hasn't.

"I'm sure she'll have plenty to tell you when you get home," I say with a weak smile and he just nods, finishing up his food. I don't think I can eat again until I get off this ship.

***************

Hurrying into the house, I put AJ down next to a pile of toys and rush to my computer. I've been anxious all day and I can only imagine what's going on out on the Seahawk. I doubt Commander . . . Harm would say anything but then again, maybe he did, slipping up accidentally.

I scan through my e-mail, deleting all the junk until I get to a letter from Bud. I open it and my nerves get the better of me. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, calming myself down. Now I'm ready to read it.

Dear Sweetie -

God, I hate that right now. I wish he'd just drop all of the terms of endearment he uses with me and just call me Harriet. It would make me feel about an ounce less guilty.

"Mommy, me hungry," AJ says, pulling at my skirt and I stand up long enough to get him a snack and a cup of juice. I'll take care of dinner in a minute.

Bud goes on and on about how happy he is to have everybody there and that he's enjoying the change in pace that their arrival has brought about. He also says he can't wait to get back home so he can work with them all again. And so he can be with me.

I hit respond and can't even begin to figure out what I'm going to say. I simply tell him about AJ's day like I always do and avoid any topics beyond what's happening with his son or at the office. Now I'm not even sure what to say about the office. He doesn't tell me about his office there and he especially hasn't told me about his staff yet. I thought with Harm and Colonel MacKenzie there he might fess up but I guess I was wrong.

Maybe he really doesn't think there's anything to tell and that it's not an issue. Maybe I'm reading this whole thing wrong. Harm will be able to tell if there's something suspicious going on but will he tell me the truth? Why should he? It wouldn't be to his advantage for me to know that Bud didn't mention her because there's nothing to it.

Bud still should have told me he was working with Petty Officer Coates. It would have been so simple if he had just told me right at the beginning. But would I have done things differently? I'm not so certain. There are days I'm not sure whether I'm more angry at him about his Legalman or about the way he reacted when I told him I bought the house.

Looking out the newly fixed window, I watch the setting sun and feel this twinge of loneliness creep up upon me. I fight it because I'm missing the wrong person. How did I ever get myself into this? I check the rest of my mail hoping that Harm wrote but why would he? He's off doing one of the things he loves most and right now, I've lost everybody to their damn careers. I wonder if he ever thinks about what's going to happen to that career of his if this ever comes out in the open. I certainly try to avoid thinking about it. He could have been the next JAG but instead . . .

No one can find out. It's that simple.

Opening my internet browser, I search for information on affairs. My eyes skim over the pages, hoping one tells me what I want to hear. Funny how none of them says that what I'm doing is fine and that I never have to tell Bud. None of them lessens my guilt any. And yet, for reasons I can't even begin to comprehend, I still want him. Maybe Harm will be the one who finally comes to his senses and realizes that this can't happen again. God, I hope that doesn't happen.

I go to close down my computer but someone sends be a message. It's probably Bud. This is the right time for him to chime in and lie to me some more.

Looking at the screen name of the sender, my heart stills for a second. I accept the message and try to get my eyes to focus on the text.

I miss youis all it says and I swallow hard, willing my hands to quit shaking.

My fingers somehow peck outI miss you, tooand I hit send before I can stop myself. He wouldn't do this from the legal office aboard the Seahawk, would he? I ask and he lets me know he's in his quarters by himself. This whole thing is crazy. Absolutely crazy.

AJ tugs at my skirt again but I'm not ready to leave this. I pick him up and put him on my lap, thankful that he can't read. He hits the keys faster than I can, sending a message that contains nothing but letters and numbers in random order and I have to explain that I didn't lose my mind. Harm tells me to go take care of my son and I know I should but I can't just yet. I have to know one thing.

When will you be back?

I put a fussing AJ back down on the floor as I wait for Harm's answer. Maybe he doesn't even know yet. Today at work, I heard bits and pieces about what's going on and it didn't sound good.

Not soon enough. I really miss you. I mean it

I sit and stare at the words for a long time before I respond.

I don't know how much longer I can keep doing this. I'm so scared that someone will find out and we'll lose everything.I hit send before I change my mind. It's easier to say these things from a distance than when he's here before me.

We'll talk about it when I get back.

We never talk.I have to say it because it's the truth.

Of course the reason we never talk is because we're too busy doing other things.

I know. This time we will. I'm being called to the bridge. Have to go.

And then he's gone. I stare at his words on the screen and fight back tears, clueless as to how to end this.

 

***************

PART VIII  
"I can't wait to get home and soak in a hot bath for hours," Mac says, settling in her seat next to me and letting out a deep sigh. The last few days have been incredibly hard on all of us and now we're finally going home.

"Sounds nice," I say. I'm not really in the mood to discuss what I want to do when I get home, but it has to do with a certain blonde that I shouldn't even be thinking about.

"I suppose you'd rather be serving on the Seahawk, wouldn't you? All that adrenaline pumping around the clock, all those people working so hard to defend our country. You'd get into one adventure after another, I'm sure. Maybe you should trade places with Bud. That would make Harriet happy," she says, turning to look at me. I make sure my face remains expressionless and my eyes don't meet hers.

"I think I've had enough adventure for a lifetime this past week and I'm ready to go home," I say. The funny thing is, this time I really mean it. There was a time not that long ago that I would've done anything to be serving in any capacity on the Seahawk while we're at war. Now, things have changed.

As for trading places with Bud, I think I'd rather trade places in the way we have. He just doesn't know that we've traded places and the whole time we were aboard the Seahawk, he never acted like he suspected anything. Maybe if I had to have his whole life, though, I would feel differently. So far, I've only tasted a part of it and it's got to be the best part.

"I can't believe I'm hearing you say that," Mac says, leaning into me and giving me a playful shove. "Harmon Rabb, tired of adventure. I thought you'd always want to live dangerously."

"Maybe I do, just in a different way," I say and that causes her to give me her full attention.

"How's that?" she asks.

"I don't know, Mac. I don't know what I want right now," I say. I know what I want but I can't have it. Not all of it. And I don't know why I don't want it with someone else, like the person sitting next to me. As complicated as it would be, it would be so much simpler than what I'm involved in now. I look at her, consider the whole thing and it scares me. It could be something. Something big and . . . forever. And yet, I'm involved in this affair that can never be anything.

"Do you think you'll ever know?" she asks, her voice low so no one around us can hear.

"Mac," I say, pleading with her not to take this further.

"When you ever do decide, just let me know," she says, her voice suddenly cold. She crosses her arms before in her in a defensive posture and I know this isn't going to go well.

"There is nothing to let you know and . . . and we can't keep doing this," I say, looking around to see if anyone is listening. No one seems to care. That's the good part about taking a commercial flight.

"Doing what, Harm? Waiting around for the right time? Waiting around for you to see if someone better comes along?" she says, sounding quite irritated.

"What do you want from me?" I ask and she clenches her jaw, looking away from me. I know from personal experience that's not the thing to ask a woman. Any woman.

"I want to know if I should move on," she says after a few moments of silence.

"What's stopping you? You've moved on before," I say and she continues to fume in silence. I'm not ever going to ask her to wait again. Last time I did that, I learned my lesson the hard way. She doesn't want to wait. The second someone else comes along . . . "Is there someone new I don't know about?"

"There might be. Is there someone new in your life?" she asks.

"No," I lie. Or is it a lie? I don't know anymore because it could all be different by the time I get home. Harriet said we needed to talk and besides, she's not exactly new in my life.

But yet she is in my life. She's in my life enough for me to tell Mac the things I'm telling her.

"Do you ever think that someday . . ."

"I don't know," I say, cutting her off before she can finish her question. "With everything the way it is right now, I don't know what the future holds."

"So you want to wait on it? Why do you always want to wait?" she asks and the sadness in her voice hurts. I can't tell her the truth right now and I'm not sure what I should use for a lie. I never realized exactly how much lying I would have to do. No wonder people confess to affairs. It's easier than the constant cover-up.

"I don't know," is all I say.

We're always here, at this exact same spot in this 'relationship.' We're both too stubborn to make a move and now I'm not even sure either of us knows what it is holding us back anymore. It's like something passed us by and we missed it and now we can't quite get it back again.

"So, is this what being back at the beginning is like?" she asks, looking into my eyes as if the answer lies there. I wish I knew the answers.

"You didn't like me that much in the beginning, if I remember correctly," I say and she smiles at some distant memory.

"Who says I like you now?" she jokes.

"I don't know. You seemed pretty fond of me a few days ago when I was . . ."

"That was all in your imagination," she cuts me off, a smile still on her face, and we finally bury this issue once more.

***********

I watched him walk into the office at 1100 hours, going out of his way to avoid me. He wouldn't even look in my direction as he made his way through the bullpen, casually talking to everybody else and answering their questions before disappearing into his office. Then, just when I was convinced that this whole thing was over and he was never going to speak to me again, he walked by my desk and asked me to lunch. He said he wanted to discuss some of the things he talked about with Bud but the look in his eyes told me otherwise. This had nothing to do with Bud.

This is unlike any 'lunch' I've ever had before. Our uniforms are spread across his apartment from the door to the bed and he's over me and inside of me and I want him so desperately. While he was gone, I almost had myself convinced that this wouldn't happen again but then that look . . .

"I missed you. I missed you so much," he says, his eyes locked onto mine as he pushes slowly into my body and stops there, enjoying the sensation. I clench around him, not wanting to let him go. I love to be filled like this . . . to be filled by him.

"I didn't think you'd want this again once you got back," I say and his hips begin moving again.

"I want you, Harriet," he says before kissing me. My mouth opens under his, our tongues seeking out more. I wrap my legs higher around him, allowing him to thrust in deeper. I want more and I want deeper and I want it all from him.

He breaks the kiss and his glazed over eyes stare into mine again. I know he's close and I slide a hand between our bodies and touch myself, trying to catch up to him. He's too far ahead and I can't match his pace. Harm thrusts a few more times and that's all he needs. His body spasms over mine and yet, his eyes still hold my gaze.

"I'm sorry . . ." he says as he collapses on top of me and I don't really care. I don't care about that as long as I can enjoy the weight of him on me again. Somehow, there's something comforting in it.

"Don't be," I say and he props himself up long enough to hold onto the condom and slip out of me. I sigh at the loss of contact and watch as he gets up to throw it out. I pull the covers up around me demurely though I'm not sure why. He's seen it all several times now. I can't help but to watch him, slick with sweat, as he walks back to bed. His penis bobs before him, still wet, and I wish I could have a taste but before I can make a move, he dives under the blankets and buries his head between my thighs.

"Oh!" I exclaim in surprise and he pulls me closer to his mouth, his tongue meeting my clitoris. I'm already close from before and this is perfect. I've been thinking about his beautiful mouth since the last time he did this to me and how I wanted to feel it at least once again.

His tongue darts in and out of his mouth and my hips rise up from the bed, wanting more. He suck and nibbles and lets his tongue work a little more and I feel it all building up inside of me. I can't take much more of this . . .

My fingers lace through his hair as I pull him close, feeling his face buried into me. That's when I lose control and my climax washes over me in waves, flooding my body with tremors that I can't stop. He doesn't let up, dragging me even further over the edge until I push him away, crying out his name.

He creeps up the bed and over me, popping his head out from under the covers. His face is also wet now, and before I can wipe it off with the sheet, he gives me a quick kiss.

"I told you I wanted you," he says, rolling off of me and pulling me into his arms.

"Yes, you did," I say, enjoying the warmth of him. We need to leave soon but I don't want to. I wish I could spend a whole night in his arms but I can't and I never will be able to. There's no way I can ever have that.

"I meant it," he says, taking one of my hands in his and playing with my fingers.

"You said we'd talk when you got back," I say, needing to know if he remembers that.

"What could we possibly talk about?" he jokes and I turn over so I can see him, our fingers still entwined.

"How was Bud?" I ask softly and Harm releases my hand and rolls over onto his back. He stares at the ceiling, considering his answer carefully.

"He was fine."

"You know, he still hasn't told me about Petty Officer Coates," I say and now he looks at me again.

"I told him he had to and that it was upsetting you. I can't believe he didn't do it yet," he says, reaching out to push a stray strand of hair from my face. I must look terrible by now and we still have to go back to work.

"Is there something going on between them?" I ask, afraid of the answer. How hypocritical of me. Here I am, in another man's bed, worried that my husband is having an affair. I don't know what's wrong with me.

"I didn't get to see him that much, Harriet . . ."

"You mean you avoided him as much as you possibly could . . ."

"Something like that," he says with a sad, guilty smile. "But I can't tell you why he hasn't told you yet. Maybe he just doesn't want you to get hurt."

For some reason, that idea. . . hurts. He's trying to protect me and I'm sleeping with his best friend. There's got to be more of an explanation than that. God, I hope there's more to it because I need a reason for why I'm doing this.

Then again, maybe the reason is right before me. Maybe Bud has nothing to do with this. I only wish I could believe that but if there was nothing wrong with my marriage, would I be in Harm's bed?

"It's just that someday he's going to be back and we'll be living together in that house and I'll be having more of his children and sharing my life and bed with him again and I don't know how you feel about any of that," I say quickly and he doesn't look like he has an answer. "I'm sorry. That just kind of spilled out of my mouth."

"No, it's okay. I already guessed this wasn't forever," he says, sounding sad at the thought of this ending.

"Do you want it to last forever?" I ask. I know a part of me wishes this could be something that lasted and that my house would be his house and my children would be his children but another part of me knows that's an impossible dream. I already told someone I would be with them forever.

He doesn't answer right away. Maybe I'm the only one who wants those things and he likes this like it is. It's easy for him. He's getting sex and companionship with no commitment and he knows that it will be over soon. Maybe he's just not ready for more and maybe he never will be.

"Harriet, I just want for you to be happy," he says, giving me some trite answer that means nothing.

"And if you're what makes me happy?" I ask and he doesn't seem to have an answer to that. That's because there are no easy answers anymore. Perhaps the only answer is to get up and walk away from all of this.

I get out of bed and start searching for all the pieces to my uniform. He's right behind me, grabbing me by my arm and turning me to him.

"Are you willing to give it all up? Are you ready for everyone to know, including your son?" he asks and now I don't have an answer for him. "Harriet, until you can say yes to that, than I'm not what really makes you happy. I'm just what makes your life complicated. Maybe it's fun for now, this complication we've brought on ourselves, but think about later. Think about what you'll want then."

He lets go of me and starts gathering his own clothes from the floor.

"I just want it to be like it was before, sir," I say as I button up my blouse and pull on my skirt. "I just want us all to be friends again."

"I don't know if that's possible, Harriet. I don't know if we can go back to just that," he says and we both finish getting dressed in silence.

***********

PART IX  
"Sir, can I have a moment of your time?"

I look up briefly from my computer screen to find Harriet standing at my office door, a catalog of some sort in her hand.

"Sure, Harriet. Come in and have a seat," I say, motioning her into my office. She sits and watches me, not saying a word while I continue to type. It's been about two weeks since I've been home and we haven't seen each other outside of the office since, well, since the last time. Funny how you never know it's going to be the last time until afterwards, but she said she wanted things to be the way they were and I'm trying as hard as I can to give her that.

"Is this a bad time?" she asks and I finish up what I'm doing and turn to her. Our eyes meet briefly and we both quickly look away, gazing at anything but each other.

"No, now is fine. What's the problem?" I ask and she slides the catalog across my desk. I pick it up, looking at the circled picture of a child's backyard swing set. Well, swing set would be an understatement. That brings to mind one of those metal things with two swing seats and maybe some plastic rings hanging off of it. One of those things that all the little girls in my neighborhood had when I was growing up and the boys would try to upend by swinging the highest. This thing is more like a fort with a swing thrown in as an afterthought.

"It's not really a problem. Or at least I don't think it is if you can help," Harriet says and I continue to stare at the picture, trying to count the pieces.

"You want me to put this together?"

"I wouldn't ask for your help, sir, but I don't know who else to turn to and Bud ordered it for AJ and it arrived already and he won't be home for another three weeks. I'd really like for it to be put together before he gets home," she says and I can't determine if there's something she's not telling me or if there's more to this.

"I think it would be best if you asked someone else . . ."

"I want you, sir," she says, our eyes meeting over the top of the catalog. "I want you to be the one who does it."

"Why?" I ask, my voice barely even a whisper. I look to see if anyone is near my door but the office is nearly empty now. It's later than I thought it was, apparently, but I was so wrapped up in this case I didn't notice. My work is all that has saved me over the last few weeks. I don't know she feels about the whole thing, but for me, it's been hard giving this up. We both did and does she really want to reopen it all again?

"Because I trust you to do a good job."

"That's all?" I ask, staring the picture again. Maybe Bud is secretly punishing me, knowing she'd come to me for help.

"That's all, sir," she says and I want to believe her.

"So, you and Bud . . . everything's all right?" I ask and she doesn't say anything for a moment while she considers her words carefully.

"How could it be all right that easily? We've lied to each other only he doesn't know --"

"I'll be there tomorrow morning," I say, cutting her off before she can say more because I see Mac walking towards my office. When she gets to my door, Mac looks from me to Harriet and back to me again.

"Am I interrupting something?" she asks and Harriet stands up quickly, taking the picture of the swing set from me.

"Not at all, ma'am. I was just asking for the Commander's opinion on something. Thank you, sir. Excuse me, ma'am," Harriet says as she ducks past Mac and out of my office.

"What was that about?" Mac asks, sitting down on the chair Harriet just vacated.

"Nothing. She wants my help putting up some swing set that Bud ordered for AJ," I say, trying to brush away the whole thing with a wave of my hand. Mac doesn't let it go.

"Do you know anything about swing sets or anything to do with kids for that matter?" she asks and I just stare at her, shrugging my shoulders.

"Like you do?" That comment must sting because she looks away from me quickly. "She wants it put up before Bud gets home, that's all. I think I can figure out how to dig some post holes. What is it you needed?"

"Nothing. I didn't need anything. It's just that we've been stuck here late for weeks and I was going to ask if you wanted to go grab something to eat. That's all," she says but I can tell now by the tone of her voice that offer has been rescinded. She stands up and nods at the paperwork that's been on my desk for days. "I see that you're busy."

"Mac, I'm sorry," I say with a sigh, knowing this thing we've had between us the last few weeks has to end. There's no reason for it. Not anymore at least. "Getting dinner is a great idea. Let me just finish this up and I'll be ready to go."

"I have to get some things from my office. I'll be right back," she says, leaving me to shut down my computer and clean off my desk. I meet her outside my office door and as we make our way through the bullpen, I can feel Harriet watching me. Watching us.

************

I finish putting a very tired and cranky AJ in his pajamas and I kiss him goodnight. Standing at his door, I watch him fuss a little more before he finally settles down, his fingers clutching his blankie that he still insists on sleeping with. I leave the door open just a crack and go to my own room.

Sitting on the edge of my bed, I realize that it really is my own room. I haven't had to share it with anyone yet and I don't know how I feel about Bud coming home and filling it up with his stuff, too.

Thankfully, I never did anything with Harm in here. Once Bud comes home, that would have been too difficult to deal with. Now I just have to avoid the chair in the living room.

And yet, here I am, fighting the urge to call him. He was leaving with Colonel MacKenzie and maybe he's not even home yet. Or maybe he is home . . . maybe they're both there. And why do I even care? I shouldn't care but I do. The part of me that's jealous of Bud and the Petty Officer is also jealous of Harm and the Colonel.

I pick up the phone, and like a high school girl, dial his number to see if he's home. If he answers, I'll just ask about tomorrow again. Or I'll make up something. Or hang up.

It doesn't matter. No one answers and I get his answering machine. I hang up the phone and get up long enough to put on my pajamas. Turning off the lights, I crawl under the covers. I pull all the blankets up around me, trying to create the warmth that can only come from having someone else in bed.

It's always in the darkness that the guilt starts to creep on me. I can't believe what I've done to my marriage. And I can't believe I still want Harm the way I do and that makes me feel even more guilty. I can't blame my continued desire for him on Bud's lack of telling me about Petty Officer Coates and I can't blame it on how mad he got at me about the house. I can only blame it on myself now.

I pull my pajamas up just high enough to slip my hand under the waistband of my panties. Delving lower, I do something I haven't done in years and touch myself while I'm alone. I close my eyes, knowing what images are going to appear in my mind . . . him in the shower before me on his knees. Him sitting there in my living room waiting for me. I want him again but I doubt he wants me in the same way. This is all I can have. Memories now turned into fantasies. I have to get them out of my system before Bud returns.

My hand begins to grow tired before anything happens. I'm too accustomed to someone else with me but I keep moving my fingers . . . keep thinking of him. I worry that someday I'll be with Bud and I'll be thinking of him and if I just get over it now . . .

The phone rings and I pull my hand away as if I've been caught doing something I shouldn't be. In a way, I guess I have been considering who was in my thoughts. I clear my voice and fumble around for the phone before answering it.

"Hello," I say, hoping I don't sound breathless or anything.

"Harriet, it's Harm." He sounds tired and is probably calling to cancel tomorrow.

"Oh! Hi! I was . . . um . . . just thinking of you . . ."

"You were?" he asks and I try to cover up what I just said quickly.

"I . . . um, actually I was wondering if you were coming? I mean . . . tomorrow? Coming over here. Tomorrow."

God, I sound like an idiot and he laughs a little.

"Yeah, I'll be there. What time do you want me?"

"Now." I cringe as soon as I say it. I cringe even more when he says nothing in return. Please, I plead silently, please say something. Or ignore it or laugh or do anything.

"God, Harriet. You think I don't want to take you up on that offer? I'd be over there in a minute and you know it," he says, his voice so soft that I nearly melt.

"Do I?"

"What? You think this has been easy on me? Why do you think that?" he asks and I wonder if he's this open with Colonel MacKenzie. Maybe he was this way with the women in his past but he doesn't seem like the type who would want to discuss relationship issues.

"I don't know. You just seem to be adjusting a little too easily," I say and he sighs.

"We have no choice."

"You don't know that. Maybe we do have a choice but we just haven't considered it yet," I say. This is all so much easier to do over the phone than it is in person. When I see him and look into his eyes and see tiny traces of doubt, I can't discuss these things. But when it's just his voice, so soft and low, over the telephone I have the courage to ask for anything.

"Harriet . . ."

"If you could be here . . . if there wasn't anyone else to consider . . . what would you do to me?" I ask, getting bold. I hear him suck in air and not release it for a long time. He's thinking. "I know what I would do to you."

What am I doing? It's been ages since I even did this with Bud but this is different. Then, I was doing it for Bud. This . . . this I'm doing for me. Maybe this whole thing has been for me.

"What would you do?" he finally asks.

"I liked the thing in the chair," I say and he responds with something that sounds like a little moan mixed with a tiny grunt. "I really liked doing that to you."

"I liked it, too."

"But I think . . . I'd want to do it in your chair . . . at the office," I say.

"Why not the Admiral's chair?" he asks and I smile at the thought but I never really pictured us there.

"Are you the Admiral?" I ask.

"No . . . what's that supposed to mean? Harriet, are you telling me that you've had thoughts about the Admiral . . . and his chair?" Harm asks, sounding stunned.

"You'll never know," I say and he laughs. "Now back to your chair. It's late at night and the office is empty. Well, maybe Tiner is still there, you know, just to add a tiny danger factor," I say and now he chuckles at the thought.

"Tiner and danger in the same sentence . . ."

"Shush. I come into your office and shut the door . . ."

"Don't forget about the blinds . . ."

"I already closed them earlier. You just didn't notice," I say. My hand begins to travel down my body again, and I touch myself lightly through my underwear. I wonder if he's doing the same? Probably not. Or not yet, at least.

"That was very clever of you."

"I can be very clever, you know," I say, slipping my underwear down now.

"I know. Hey, wouldn't it be more dangerous if Singer was there . . ."

"Oh, please. Singer isn't that big of a threat," I say, my hand dipping past my curls and into the wetness between my thighs. "Besides, could you imagine the look on Tiner's face?"

"I try not to think of Tiner at all when I'm . . ."

"When you're what?" I ask and he sighs.

"When I'm doing this."

Good. I'm glad to know that I'm not alone.

"Then forget Tiner. You're sitting in your chair, working . . . you hardly even notice that I'm there," I say, wishing that it was him working his mouth against my clitoris and not my fingers.

"I always notice you," he says, trying hard to control the little waver in his voice.

"Sure you do . . . anyway, you're in your chair and I'm wearing a skirt . . . nothing under it," I say and he moans a little more.

"Yeah . . ."

"It's been a long day . . . you lost a case to Lieutenant Singer . . ."

"Not likely . . ."

"And you really, really could use a good fuck . . ."

"God, Harriet."

"I sit on your desk in front of you but that lasts only long enough for you to pull me to the edge of the desk. Just far enough for you to notice I have nothing under my skirt," I say, my fingers working a little harder now. "What is it you want me to do to you now? Do you want me to drop onto my knees and give you head or do you want to be inside of me? It's up to you,"

"Harriet . . ."

"Which is it, baby?" I ask, throwing that in there to see if he says anything. He doesn't.

"The . . . um, the first thing," he says and I smile. I knew it. He's a guy and they can never turn that down.

"I unzip your pants and pull them and your boxers down and you're hard already . . ."

"Yeah, that's for sure," he says. He sounds far away, as if he's struggling to keep the phone next to his ear.

"I take you in my hand and then my mouth, circling the tip a little with my tongue before letting you push in as far as you can go. My tongue keeps darting over you as you thrust in and out and you taste so good. You want me to keep going?" I ask. I know my face is bright red and I can't believe I'm doing this with him.

"Oh, keep going . . ."

"You slide a little off your chair . . . just enough for me to massage your balls but I can tell you want more. My fingers wander back a little farther to your ass . . ."

"Harriet!" he says and I stop for a second wondering if he came. No, I think he's just shocked by the things I'm saying.

"Oh, you love it and you know it," I say, laughing.

"Are these the things you've learned being married?" he asks.

"Yeah, that a man really loves to have his ass touched and how to balance the checkbook," I say, joking a little more. Why not? This should be fun even if it's so, so wrong.

"Okay. Then go ahead."

"You sure?" I ask and he tells me yes. "In order to protect your delicate sensibilities . . ."

"My what? You've got to be kidding," he says and now he's laughing.

"You heard me. Just imagine I'm doing stuff to you there and I won't say it. Don't want to blow my image . . ."

"You've already touched me there."

"I have, haven't I? Then I guess we don't have to worry about your sensibilities or my image," I say and we both laugh.

"This is the weirdest phone sex I've ever had," he says and then realizes what he just said. "Not that I ever do this . . . that often."

"I understand completely. Do you want me to keep going or . . ." Before I can finish, I hear AJ crying in the other room. "Damn it."

"What's wrong?" he asks and I sigh heavily.

"AJ is up and I'm going to have to go tend to him. I'm sorry," I say and now he sighs. I know he's been with someone with a kid before so he must know that this is part of the territory. You never really know when they're going to wake up but you can almost guarantee it's when you're having sex. Any kind of sex.

"That's okay. Go take care of your son, Harriet," he says, sounding quite sorry that this can't go on.

"But you're not done," I say.

"You've given me plenty to think about. I'm sure I can manage from here," he says. The thought of him somewhere in his apartment touching himself and imagining me at the same time is enough to send little quivers of pleasure through me.

"See you tomorrow?" I ask, my voice filled with hope.

"If you still want me," he says. As if I wouldn't want him.

"Oh, yeah. Of course I do. Goodnight, Harm," I say, hanging up the phone before he can say anything else. I straighten out my underwear and my pajamas to go tend to my son. For half a second, a trickle of guilt seeps in, trying to chase out the buzz I still feel through my body but I push it away quickly.

I'm not going to feel that way tonight. This was for me.

************

PART X

"Can I ask you something personal?" Harriet asks as I toss a bag of ready mix cement onto the pile of supplies needed to finish this project. I look at her, nearly rolling my eyes at the question and she just smiles.

"I think after everything, you know . . . anyway, ask away," I say, pushing the cart towards the next required item. She was only able to get a sitter for an hour so we have to make this a quick shopping trip. At least with AJ around at the house I don't have to worry about this turning into anything else. After last night, I'm so tempted to just kiss her right here but I know better.

"You and Colonel MacKenzie . . ."

"No," I say flat out, interrupting her and wherever she's going with this.

"No what? How do you even know what I was going to ask?"

"Because that's what everyone asks," I say. "Mac and I are just friends. Good friends."

"You and I were just friends and now we're good friends," she says, reaching out and putting her hand on my arm. When we both know her touch has lingered just a little too long, she jerks her hand away. She wants to know about last night, before I called her, when I was out with Mac but there is nothing to know.

"That's different," I say. My eyes scan over the tools on the wall in an attempt to avoid looking at her. I knew this was a bad idea. I knew as soon as we were alone and in person together, I'd want for there to be more.

"Different because with me, there's no fear of commitment?"

"Harriet, I'd rather not discuss this here," I say in a near whisper, facing her now. That was the wrong thing to do because she looks incredibly sad and that's how we got into this mess in the first place.

"I guess I'm still looking for answers," she says, sighing heavily.

"And I'm still looking for the right socket wrench. Hey, you weren't looking for answers last night. What was it you were looking for?" I ask and her face turns red.

"You," she says, still blushing.

"Please tell me this swing set monstrosity isn't just a ploy to get me into bed?" I ask and she giggles at the thought.

"Don't you think that would be going a bit far? I'm sure I could have you without building an extra wing onto my house," she says, nodding at all the equipment and supplies we've gathered so far. She's right. The thing is so big that she could probably board guests in it.

"Don't be so sure about that," I say, looking at her out of the corner of my eye before I go back to searching through the tools.

"Oh, I'm sure."

"Harriet, we . . . I don't know. At some point it has to end or else he'll be back and we're going to still want this," I say and now she looks sad and serious again. Somehow, in unspoken terms, we both have agreed that it would be best if Bud never found out but the only way we can make that work is if . . . I take a transfer to NAS Keflavik. I look at Harriet and she's got a little pout on her face and that just makes me want to kiss her all the more. Maybe Iceland isn't far enough away.

"He's never going to tell me," she says and shakes off the thought.

"No, he probably isn't. Harriet, you can't ask me to defend or condemn what he did in not telling you about his working conditions. At one time, I could have but right now . . . I want something that's his and it isn't fair of me to judge him," I say and she gets a furrow in her brow.

"How are you two going to ever work together again?" she ask and it's something I've asked myself many, many times since the first time I slept with his wife.

"I don't know anything. . ."

"Don't know anything is right, my friend. Especially about tools," a familiar voice says and Turner comes around the corner. "I thought that was you, Rabb. What is it you two are up to on this fine Saturday morning?"

His eyes go from me to Harriet and rest there. Her face is still slightly flushed and I can only imagine how much of our conversation Sturgis might have heard. This is just great. He's got some plumbing item in his hand and I know that's in the next aisle.

"We're . . . Harm . . . Commander Rabb is helping me put up a swing set my husband ordered for our son. My husband and my son. Bud. His. . . son," Harriet says and thankfully falls silent at that point.

"Lieutenant Roberts ordered this massive playground thing for his son and I offered to help Lieutenant Sims put it together," I say, using my best cool lawyer voice in explaining what we could possibly be doing here together on a Saturday morning. We could have been caught at worse places. He knows I've been helping her with the house. Sturgis checks out the items in the cart and then looks at me, eyebrow raised. "And we're in a bit over our heads."

"Aren't you always, Rabb?" he jokes and that makes Harriet laugh nervously. "I'll let you get back to whatever this mess is and I'll catch up with you on Monday -- how does lunch sound?"

"That sounds great," I say and he just nods and walks away.

"Damn it," I say under my breath and Harriet stares at her feet. "How much of that do you think he heard?"

"We didn't really say anything, sir," Harriet says and I have no clue why she added the 'sir' now. It certainly isn't going to help.

"I recall us saying something about this having to end and then there was the thing about the wing on your house and I'm positive I used the word bed," I say quietly in case he's still lurking around. Shit. It's too late to do anything about it now.

"I'm sure you'll be able to explain it," Harriet says and I just shake my head. I'll just have to wait and see if he says anything because I'm not going to tip my hand for no reason. I'm smarter than that. Yeah. That's why I'm worried about losing everything over an affair with a friend and co-worker's wife.

"I'll think of something but for now, let's just get this done," I say, pushing the cart down the aisle and away from her.

***********

"Damn it!"

"Are you okay up there?" I call from down on the ground. I can't really see where he is but I can hear him rattling around up there somewhere. He's made amazing progress this weekend. He and I worked on it all day yesterday and then he left for home without saying goodbye when I was out at the grocery store with AJ. I suppose that really was the best thing to do. Now it's getting late and he's got lights all over the place, trying to finish this before we have to return to work tomorrow.

"I'm fine. Just . . . damn it. I lost the drill bit and it's dark and I swear Bud was punishing me when he sent this. Are you sure he doesn't know?" Harm asks, poking his head out of the club house on the top of the structure.

"I don't think so," I say, climbing up the ladder to where he is. Harm offers me a hand and pulls me up the rest of the way. The thing sways just a little when I sit down. "Are you sure it's okay with both of us up here?"

"I hope so," he says with a disheartened sigh. "Is AJ in bed?"

"Sound asleep," I answer and he looks around for the drill bit a little longer before giving up.

"Why did he pick something so big?"

"I don't know. I guess he feels bad for being gone," I say, looking away from him. Moths flutter around the lamp he has set up and I watch them struggle to reach the light despite the heat coming off the bulb.

"I don't blame him for that. I'm going to hate being gone, too," he says and now I turn my attention away from the moths and back to him.

"What?"

"Harriet, how in the hell is this ever going to work? And if Turner has even an inkling of what's going on, I'm going to have to do something. We're going to have to do something," he says and I can feel my throat tighten.

"You're not throwing away your career over this," I say, trying to hold my voice steady. "I won't let you. What we did is not worth that despite what you say. If anyone is going anywhere, it's going to be me."

"Where are you going to go?" he asks.

"Bud can take a transfer. We can go to Italy or Japan or wherever. It will be good for his career and then you don't have to worry," I say and he shakes his head. He's not the type who would let me do that and I know it but it really wouldn't be that bad. Except . . . I'd miss him and all our friends here.

"But the house, Harriet. It's the house you've always wanted," he says and it's true.

"I love the house but it's just that. It's just a house. If it's going to cause this much trouble, then it's never going to be a home," I say, moving closer to him and taking his hand in mine. "If it weren't for this house and me dragging you along to buy it, none of this would be happening."

"So, we're going to blame it on the house? The house made us do it?" he asks, squeezing my fingers in his. "I've heard a lot of excuses in my line of work, but that's got to be one of the best."

"It was more than the house. Bud was gone and he was mad at me. And then there's the thing with his Legalman and . . . you were here. You were here and do you have any clue what you look like dripping wet in the middle of the night, standing in my kitchen and helping me even when you didn't have to?" I ask and he looks at me, his eyes so full of emotion that I wish . . . God, I wish for so many things.

"I had to help you. It's in my nature and besides, it was you, Harriet. Even before all of this, I cared about you. I love you . . . and care about you a lot," he says softly. My heart skips a beat at those words even though I know what he means. This is no big romantic 'I'm in love with you so run off with me and be wife' kind of love but still, it's something.

"How will I ever learn to live without you?" I ask and he pulls me into his arms as the tears begin to stream down my cheeks.

"You will. Many have before. Trust me," he says, smoothing my hair away from my damp face. "Bud will be back and you'll have more babies and this will be a home for however long you two live in it. And someday, I'll be no more than a memory of a mistake you made long, long ago."

"How can you say that?" I ask, wishing I could just stay right here forever.

"Because it's the truth."

"Stay with me tonight. Please," I say and he sighs. I stop him before he can protest. "Just . . . this. Nothing more."

"What will the neighbors say?" he asks and I sit up and turn off the nearest lamp, sending us into the shadows.

"I don't care," I say and he pulls me onto his lap, both of us clinging to the other. "This is one of the hardest things I've ever done in my life. Not the hardest but it's up there."

"It's going to be all right," he says. How long has it been since he's said that to me? A few days? Weeks? I don't remember.

"I know," I say and we settle in together for a long night.

**************

PART XI  
Someone shakes me and I jump. Harriet grabs my hand and I remember that we fell asleep up on this thing that I spent the weekend building. I can barely move my neck and my legs are cramped up from sleeping in such tight quarters that when I try to stretch, I just hit the other side. She must be waking me up to send me home. I have no clue what time it is or how long we've been here.

"Time for me to go?" I ask, stretching my arms upwards and hitting the canvas roof on this thing.

"No," she says and I can feel this all starting again. We say one thing and then do the other, neither of us strong enough to just walk away.

"Then what?"

"Come inside with me," she says, her voice incredibly soft and inviting. I should climb down this thing and walk away. I know I should. One of us should but neither of us is doing that.

"What about AJ?" I find myself asking instead of saying no and telling her I need to go home. Why can we end this in theory but not in practice?

"He's asleep," she says and I sigh. I want to stay. Actually, I want to stay forever and that's becoming a very big problem.

"You said you didn't want to ever do this with your son at home," I say, searching her eyes to see if she's really changed her mind. In the moonlight, I can't tell if she's so sure about that now. It doesn't matter because we both know this is wrong no matter who is at home. It's been wrong this whole time and it's not getting any less wrong as time goes by.

"I know what I said," she says, pouting a little as if she's a child who can't quite figure out how to get their way.

"Then maybe I should go home," I say, turning to climb down the ladder.

"For tonight -- what's left of it -- this is your home. Come to bed," she says and I stare her in the eyes again. The pout is gone and her eyes show nothing but resolve. Before I can say no, she climbs over me and makes her way down the swing set and I quickly follow.

She takes hold of my hand and pulls me across the lawn and we can't seem to move fast enough. Slipping through the back door as quietly as we can, she locks it and then leads me upstairs. We don't stop until we're at the threshold of her bedroom and we both stare in.

"I don't think I can do that. Not in there," I whisper and she nods in understanding.

"Then here," she says, leading me to the room that I helped paint apple green. "Stay here with me."

"Harriet, when is this going to end?" I ask as she pulls me into the room and closes the door behind us. "We keep saying it's going to end and then this happens."

She looks up at me with eyes so filled with emotion that I can't help but pull her into my arms and kiss her. I know this is killing her inside yet she keeps doing it. I keep doing it. Neither of us is strong enough to stop yet.

After unbuttoning my shirt and pushing it off my shoulders, her fingers claw at the hem of my undershirt and I step back long enough for her to pull it over my head and toss it aside. She's dressed for summer in just a t-shirt and shorts and it doesn't take me long to have her undressed. I kick off my shoes as she unfastens my jeans, pulling the button fly apart with several audible 'pops.'

Naked, she pushes me back on the bed and tells me to wait just a second. She grabs my undershirt from the floor and pulls it over her head as she leaves the room, coming back with a small box of Trojans. Everything goes so quickly and I put the condom on myself and then she's under me, her arms snaked around my neck and her legs wrapped around my waist.

Guiding myself in, I watch as she smiles up at me, rolling her hips just enough to urge me on. I pull out slowly before pushing back in as far as she'll let me go, her legs moving up higher to give me better access. Her muscles all clench onto me tightly and I kiss her. Harriet's tongue parts my lips and searches my mouth, our kiss growing desperate and needy. I stop moving for a second, just enjoying all the sensations around me. We shouldn't be doing this and we might never do this again and I want to remember everything.

"Move," she says, pulling her mouth away from mine. Her hands slide down my backside and she brushes them across me, urging me on. The shirt Harriet is wearing bunches up between us and I wish she had taken it off so I could feel all of her but I don't want to stop for that now.

We both start moving and the room begins to smell of us and of sex, masking the faint smell of new paint. Our eyes remain focused on each other and I can tell when she's close and I shouldn't know that at all. I feel her move a hand around and between us, touching herself, and I move up to my knees so she can be comfortable and so I can watch all of her.

Her fingers circle around her clit as I pump in and out of her and the smell and the sight and the sound of her is enough to push me over the edge. Unfortunately, that was a little to quick.

"Stay in me," she says, moving more fingers to the apex of her sex and grinding harder.

"Harriet, the condom --"

"Don't worry so much," she says with a smile. She closes her eyes and I watch her, fascinated by the look on her face. I place my hand over hers and my fingers join in. It doesn't take long and she finishes up, her inner muscles tightening around me as she moans my name softly, restraining herself because of the person in the other room.

I slip out of her, my erection gone now, and I look at the condom. Hopefully, nothing leaked out in that last minute but everything is so wet that it's hard to tell. I pull it off and grab some of the tissues sitting on the night stand, wrapping it up.

"We shouldn't have done that," I say in a whisper and she pulls me down next to her.

"Which part of it?" she asks with a yawn, cuddling up under my arm.

"All of it. Harriet, I need to go. Tomorrow is going to be crazy and then I have that lunch with Commander Turner," I say and she sighs in disappointment.

"Thank you for helping with the swing set," she says as I get up to get dressed. She curls up under the blanket that was on the end of the bed and I think I just lost a shirt because she doesn't look like she's giving it up.

"You're welcome," I say, pulling on my other shirt and buttoning it.

"Thank you for this," she says and I have no idea why she's thanking me for what I've done. She should hate me for this.

"Harriet --"

"Promise me something?" she asks and I nod my head. "No matter what happens from now on, you'll never regret this."

I sit down on the edge of the bed, causing it to sink and she slides towards me a little. I finish with my jeans and pull on my socks, all the while thinking of what I can say.

"There are parts I already regret. And there are parts I know you regret," I say and I hear her agree with a soft 'um hmm.' "But there are parts of this I never want to give up and I never want to forget."

"And it will all be all right?" she asks and I turn to her. "No matter what I decide to do, it will all be all right?"

"What do you mean?" I ask, narrowing my eyes at her.

"Nothing. I don't mean anything. You better get going," she says, turning away from me. "Lock the front door when you leave."

With that, I get off the bed and leave the room, already regretting this night in spite of anything I said.

***********

I get up and make the bed, trying to smooth out what we had just done in here. I can't believe I did that and with my son at home. I can't believe everything I've been doing lately. There was a time I never would have imagined having an affair let alone one with Harmon Rabb. I never imagined that he could possibly ever want me nor that he would ever go along with such a thing. But he does and he did. I slip on my panties and tug his shirt down further than it already falls on my body.

The scent of the two of us together clings to the room and to the cotton fabric of his shirt and I breathe it all in. Why am I doing this? Why do I let him back again and again? I still have no answers.

Taking one last look at the room, I turn off the light and head downstairs. I can't sleep right now anyway, my body still humming with pleasure. I know at one time it felt this way with Bud but that feeling got lost in the mess of careers and the child and so many other daily things. I didn't know it could ever feel this way again.

Now I just have to figure out how to make it feel that way with Bud again. I'm going to have to because I have to fix this and that's the only way I know how. I have to fall in love with him all over again. I love him but there's something else missing. It's something that I should have never let slip away from us. I shouldn't have tried to find it with someone else because it didn't solve anything and it didn't make me any less angry at him. Now I'm angry at myself, too.

Sitting at the table, I start up my laptop. Maybe Bud is on-line and I can make myself feel even more guilty. We discussed telling each other the truth the other day but we're both still hiding something. There comes a point where you don't know how to tell the truth anymore and the lies you make up become the fabric of your life and then they become the reality.

'Hello, Sweetie! You're up late,' comes up on my screen and I suck in a deep breath, knowing that if he were to find out, he'd never call me sweetie again. I'm not sure if I'd miss it or not. Harm has never called me anything but Harriet this whole time.

'Just finishing up some things with that swing set you sent. Did you pick the biggest one?' I type back, lying to him about what I was really doing. My muscles can still feel exactly where Harm was and here I am, chatting with my husband as if nothing happened. When did I turn into this person?

'AJ deserves the very best. Did Commander Rabb help you like he said he would?'

'Commander Rabb has been very helpful.' I hit the send button and wonder what would happen if I told him right here and now exactly how 'helpful' Commander Rabb has been lately. I can't do it. If I tell him, it has to be face to face and after I've talked to Harm about our options. I work at JAG and I know the rules. There aren't that many options.

'I'm glad that he's there for you. I can't chat for long but I've been thinking about asking for a few days leave before I return to JAG. Maybe we could meet up somewhere in Italy or Germany.'

I just stare at the words. What would I say to him, all alone in a foreign land? I wouldn't even have AJ as a buffer. Unless . . .

'What do you expect me to do with little AJ?'

'I'm sure your mom would be happy to come up and watch her pumpkin for a few days. Or else you can bring him with. I can't wait to see him again,' he writes back.

'We'll see. I need to get to bed now if I'm ever going to make it to work tomorrow.'

'Hey, before you go is Commander Rabb still there?' Bud asks and my heart skips a beat. Why in the world would Bud ask that?

'It's the middle of the night. Why would he be here?' I type as quickly as I can, swallowing hard.

'I'm sorry. I'm off on the time. I'll have to write him at the office. Get some sleep, sweetie. Love you.'

And with that, he's gone. I put my head in my hands and think. A few days alone with Bud will probably break me. I keep telling myself that no one can ever know about this but then this little inner voice gets the better of me and I know with all my heart that I have to tell him. It's only then that I realize the only reason I can't tell him is because it happened with Harm. Anyone else, and I'd admit to it. But this . . .

God, this is bad. I can only imagine the conversation: 'Honey, I slept with one of your best friends while you were gone because he was here and he looked so good and I wanted him. Don't ask me anymore than that because there's nothing to worry about. Even though I love both of you, I'm spending my life with only you.'

I love Harm and that makes it a whole lot worse. It wasn't some sad and lonely fuck. It was -- it is -- an affair. And even worse is the fact that Bud worships Harm like the big brother he never had. They all worship him, not knowing that he can make mistakes so easily. Now I know. He fell off that pedestal they all have him on when I tumbled into his bed.

Someday, this will all work out. I have no idea how, but it will.

**************

PART XII  
"I haven't seen much of you since you got back from the Seahawk," Sturgis Turner says as he places his dinner napkin carefully on his lap. We're taking an early lunch because he has to be in court at 1300 hours even though I'm not exactly hungry yet. Exhausted from last night, but not hungry.

"I've been busy with the Sebring case and with some other . . . I don't know . . . stuff," I say, putting a forkful of salad in my mouth so I can do something other than talk.

"Stuff like that new house of yours?" he asks jokingly and I shake my head, swallowing my food.

"I'm just glad I'm not the one who bought that place. It has had more problems than I ever imagined it could when she bought it," I say, rolling my eyes at the thought of everything I've had to fix so far even though it's not my house. She's not my wife. That's not my life. I've only been pretending that it could be possible.

"I'm sure Lieutenant Roberts will be pleased that you're helping out with the repairs. You're a good friend," he says and I search his eyes for any hidden meaning in that. He's too hard to read and I focus back on my salad.

"You know how it is. Bud's gone and some of those jobs were too big for Harriet to take care of herself so she called me," I explain though I don't know why. Turner just nods his head thoughtfully.

"And the playground?"

What in the hell is he getting at? He's a pretty good lawyer. Not as good as I am but still good. He can usually get anything out of anybody but I don't know what it is he wants me to say.

"I finished most of it yesterday. And I've got the bruises to show for it," I say, holding out one of my arms. I don't remember how I got them and to be honest, it might have been when Harriet was holding on to me at some point during the night.

"So, what are you going to do to amuse yourself once Lieutenant Roberts returns?"

"What do you mean?"

"You won't be able to play house anymore with Lieutenant Sims," he says, taking a sip of his iced tea and staring at me over the top of the glass.

"We aren't playing anything," I say, looking away from him again. I know my cheeks are now flushed with embarrassment over this line of questioning and I don't want him to see it. I'm better at this than he is but right now I'm failing fast.

"Harm, I've known you for years. You like things that you can't have and you like the unobtainable goal. All the while, things that are right in front of you . . ."

"Sturgis, what in the hell are you talking about?" I ask, turning my attention back to him. He cocks his head to the side and doesn't answer. "I don't know what you're implying but whatever it is, I think you need to stop it right now."

"Okay. I was just concerned you might be getting a little too accustomed to being the maintenance man over at the Roberts' house. That's all," he says, sitting back in his chair and putting his hands up in front of him to stop me.

"I'm just helping out when she needs me," I say and he nods.

The problem is, now we need each other far too much and it has nothing to do with helping out at the house. It hurts already, knowing that this thing is over. It has to be over. I've tried to figure out every which way I can to keep it going and there's no way to do it without destroying too many lives.

Yet, I know that if she were to call tonight, I'd be there in a minute. I keep trying and trying to say no but I can't. She's my weakness.

We both eat in silence for a while, avoiding each other's stare, until finally he speaks up. "You like projects. Your father. Your car. Whatever. You like to have a project in your life."

"And?"

"I just don't think that getting involved with Harriet Sims . . ."

"I'm not involved with anyone and you know it."

"Let me finish. I don't think that fixing a house with someone whose husband is away was the wisest of projects for you to get involved in. That's all. People talk," he says and I lean back in my chair.

"Who's talking and about what?" I ask. Before he can answer, my cell phone rings. "Hold on."

It's Mac, telling me I have to get back to the office right away and that the SecNav is waiting with the Admiral. He wants a meeting with Mac and me ASAP. I tell her I'll be right there and hang up. Sturgis is still watching me, a curious expression on his face.

"Something important?" he asks.

"Apparently. I don't know anything yet," I say, tossing my napkin on the table next to my unfinished meal. I didn't really feel like eating anyway.

"I'll get this," he says, picking the check up from the table. "We'll talk later."

"Yeah," I say, getting up and leaving him behind. For the first time ever, I'd rather deal with the SecNav than answer more of his questions.

************

Harm rushed into the office after his lunch and barely even gave me a glance. I have no idea how things went with Commander Turner and now he's been in a meeting with the Admiral, the SecNav and Colonel MacKenzie for quite a while.

The only person more curious about what's going on than I am is Lieutenant Singer. She keeps pacing by the conference room every couple of minutes as if that's going to make them throw open the door and ask her to join them in whatever it is they're discussing. I thought maybe there was a chance she changed a little when everyone was away for the tribunal, but she's back to her old ways.

I know what she is but yet she frightens me a little and the only reason she does is because she would do anything to get power around here. If she were to ever find out about what went on between Harm and me, she would use it until she had everything she wanted. She wouldn't care who she hurt along the way.

Finally, they come out of the conference room and Harm says something to Colonel MacKenzie about being ready to leave in a few hours. Leave to where? I wait for Lieutenant Singer to get it out of them but they both brush her off quickly.

I watch him through his office window for a few minutes and he seems to be clearing off his desk rather quickly. I need to know what's going on. I know I shouldn't feel that way, but I do. Gathering up a few files to make it look official, I get up and knock on his open office door.

"Sir . . ."

"Come in, Lieutenant," he says, motioning for me to sit down. He looks at me with this restrained expression and I know from it that we can't say much.

"How was your lunch, sir?"

"Uneventful," he says and I smile nervously. "Commander Turner didn't say anything about yesterday . . . I wouldn't worry about it, Harriet. I'll talk to him again when I get back."

"Back from where?" I ask, hoping he doesn't have to go back out to the Seahawk again. It was hard enough with him and Bud together out there the last time.

"Afghanistan. Mac and I are leaving at 2000 hours," he says and I feel this lump rise up to my throat.

"Afghanistan?" The word squeaks past the lump and he raises an eyebrow at me.

"I'm afraid so," he says but his voice betrays him. He's glad to be going to where the action is, like all the men around here. Like Bud.

I had a feeling that something bad was going on but I didn't think it would be this. I thought perhaps I was just worried over Commander Turner. I know this is Harm's job and I also know he'll be fine but I can't help but to worry. It must be the mother in me. Or maybe now it's the lover. I don't know which is more powerful.

He continues to work on sorting through his files and I don't say anything for a long while. He must notice because he finally looks up at me and gives me this reassuring smile.

"I'm going to be all right," he says, his voice low so no one else can hear. I couldn't shut his door when I came in because I was afraid that would look suspicious. I've grown paranoid since Commander Turner showed up at the home repair store the other day.

"I know you'll be okay," I say but I don't sound as sure about it as he does. I know his history and it's not all that great. Hopefully, the Colonel will take care of him. Someone has to and it can't be me anymore.

"Then why do you look worried?" he asks, going back to his paperwork.

"I'm sorry, sir. I don't mean to look worried. It's just . . ." I don't know what else to say. At least not anything I can say here in his office with a bullpen of people right outside the door.

"Harriet, I'll be fine. I should be back in a few days and we'll talk then. Don't worry about me. Really, I'll be okay," he says one last time and I'm going to have to take his word for it.

*************

PART XIII  
"It can't be anymore dangerous in there than it's been out here," I say, nodding at the cave opening in front of us. Mac peers inside but in the darkness, it's hard to see anything. "Who knows? Maybe Osama bin Laden is hiding in this particular cave and we can end this thing here and now."

"There's a better chance of you ending up in a minefield again. Or us getting bombed," she says, rolling her eyes at me as she carefully makes her way inside. "Not quite the same view we had outside, but it should do for the night. And it's a little bit warmer."

"So, no more sharing body heat?" I ask, setting my supplies down and sitting next to them. I'm exhausted and dirty and I feel blood dripping from somewhere.

"Yeah, because look how well that always turns out," she says with more than just a touch of sarcasm in her voice.

"Maybe someday we'll get it right."

"Harm," she says, stopping me before I can go on.

"Yeah?"

"Are you seeing someone again?" she asks and that gets my attention quickly. I stop messing around with my pack and look up at her.

"Why would you ask that? Mac, I'd tell you if I met someone and you know it," I say, glad it's so dark in here and she can't read my face. It's not a total lie because I didn't just meet Harriet but it's not the truth at all. I don't know how I could possible tell Mac the truth. She'd never forgive me for doing that to Bud and to their marriage.

"Because, in my opinion, you only flirt with me like that when you know it's safe. If we're both single, you're too scared to," she says and I look away. We're going to have one of those talks and here I am, hiding so damn much.

"I'm sorry you feel that way," I say, giving her a non-answer to whatever it is she's trying to ask. "But I'm not seeing anyone."

"It's really none of my business," she says but I can tell by the tone of her voice that she thinks it is. She's right. After all, had certain things gone a different way this year, there was a chance . . . I shake the thought away. Things are this way for a reason. I'm just not sure what that reason is right now.

"You seeing anyone?" I ask and she looks down towards her boots.

"No," she answers sadly, shaking her head.

"Come here," I say, patting the dirt beside me. She comes over and sits next to me and neither of us says anything for a long while. "What are you thinking about?"

"I was thinking about Gunny. People do crazy things in a time of war," she says and I close my eyes. "I guess the feeling that life can end at any moment makes people seek out something in each other. It makes you look for love where you might not have looked before."

"I guess it does," I say, thinking of Harriet and how this might have never happened if it weren't for this war. Bud might never had taken this opportunity to serve aboard the Seahawk if he didn't think there was a reason to do it that was more important than being with his family. And look what I did while he was away. The guilt can be strangling sometimes and there is no way to escape it. Maybe taking a walk through a minefield isn't such a bad idea.

But yet, when it came down to it, I wanted to live. One of the reasons is sitting next to me. I didn't want to die in front of her. She's been through enough of that already. Maybe in a way, I'm the only lucky one in her long string of unlucky men.

"So how come we put everything on hold for the war?" she asks and I wish I had an easy answer for her. "We were so close, Harm, and then this changed everything. Most people grow closer in times like this."

What am I supposed to say? I've been screwing around with someone else's wife and I couldn't keep up with two women at once? That's not entirely true because there was plenty of time after Mic and Renee left for us to move forwards instead of taking this gigantic step backwards.

"Until a few weeks ago, I was afraid to even consider it," I say.

"Afraid it would get in the way of your job?" she asks with a huff and I consider her carefully.

"No, not exactly. I guess I was afraid that something like today would happen and I'd lose everything. Or you would. You really don't need that again, do you?" I ask and she rubs her hands together.

"That's for me to decide," she says and I take her cold hands in mine. I've grown accustomed to a warm, soft touch again over the last few weeks and my pulse races a bit at this contact.

"Is it worth the risk?" I ask, our fingers locking together. If she knew everything else that was going on, she'd realize that this has very little risk involved. If we were to be involved, there would be no marriage ruined. There would be no careers completely destroyed. It seems so damn easy. Too easy.

Yet, lately there's been something missing with Mac. I wish I could put my finger on it, but I can't. There's just something that was there but it's been gone recently. It's gone and I can't get it back and I don't know if it has anything to do with Harriet. Maybe it's just been too much time or too much bad blood between us.

I look at her and I know that I love her and I probably always will. I just don't know what to do about it.

"Are you worried about ruining our friendship?" she asks.

"I'm worried about hurting more people," I respond. Releasing my hands, she shuffles around enough to face me.

"Life is full of risks, Harm. You know that better than most people. And you know that the first step is the hardest. Why can you do it in a minefield but you can't do . . . this?" she asks and I don't know what to say.

"Mac, can you ask me again in a couple of weeks? I just need a few weeks . . ."

"To do what? Let go?" she asks, not hiding any ire she feels for me right now.

"This time, yes. I need a little time to let go of something," I say and watch as she shivers before me. Even now, the temperature in the mountains can get chilly at night.

"Let go of what, Harm?" she asks, her voice pleading with me to share. I can't. Not yet anyway. I pull her over to me, wrapping her in my arms and warming her up enough that she stops shivering.

"Someday, I'll tell you, okay? It's just right now, I can't. Trust me, I just need a few weeks this time," I say and she sighs. "You aren't going to run off and get engaged to the first man who asks, are you?"

"Depends on who asks," she says with a cute touch of levity in her voice despite our situation right now.

"Ah, so there is someone out there, is there?" I ask jokingly, pulling her further into my arms.

"Maybe. Maybe not. That's classified," she says and I pull her boonie hat off of her head and push her hair out of her eyes.

"Maybe you can share that story someday," I say with a chuckle as we both settle down together. This cave is only slightly more comfortable than falling asleep on top of a swing set but at least I don't have to worry about the cave falling down over night. Unless it gets bombed, we should be okay.

"Don't hold your breath," she says as she slips into sleep in my arms.

It's only then that I worry about the news of the two of us being unaccounted for making it back to JAG. I promised Harriet that nothing would happen and now look at this mess I'm in. I look down at Mac sleeping in my arms and I shake my head. God, it's now even a bigger mess.

*************

I can't believe I just did that. I can't believe I let Singer get me so angry that I'd punch her. There's no way she's going to let this go. No way. I take the file Tiner just handed to me and I throw it on my desk before quickly making my way to the restroom. I don't know where else I can go to get away from everybody.

Shutting the door to the stall, I force back the urge to vomit and instead sit down on the toilet seat, the tears streaming down my cheeks. This is what I didn't want anyone else to see. Why would I be crying over Commander Rabb and Colonel MacKenzie? They've both been in jams before and they always get out of them. It's not like it's Bud who's missing in Afghanistan. There's no reason for me to be crying.

Yet, this time, everything is different. I . . . we . . . it was just a few nights ago that we were together and now he's missing. There's no one I can talk to or cry to. If he's . . . if he's dead there will be no one who will understand this pain.

I unroll some toilet paper and blow my nose. This has got to be the end because I can't possibly live like this any longer. The secrets and the lies are too much to handle and this is just what I needed for me to see that. I know I said it was over the other night but a part of me was still hoping he'd come back to me. Now there's a chance that he won't be back at all.

Resting my head in my hands, I close my eyes tight and chase that thought away. Harm will be back. He always comes back. If he can survive the Atlantic, he can survive Afghanistan. Right. Because Afghanistan is the safest place to be missing right now. At least he's with Colonel MacKenzie and one of them knows the language. She won't let anything happen to him and he won't let anything happen to her. He would never let anyone get hurt if he could stop it.

Damn. He almost climbed back up on that pedestal again. Harm's not perfect and I know that better than anyone. He makes mistakes, crashes planes into oceans and sleeps with his best friend's wife. God only knows what kind of trouble he'll get into in country. He belongs on an aircraft carrier or up in a fighter jet.

But most of all, he belongs here at JAG where I can see him.

I hear someone else come in and peering through the crack in the door, I can see it's Lieutenant Singer. She probably knows I'm in here and she's going to wait for me. I don't think I have it in me to hit her again right now. I was angry enough earlier due to the way she was talking about Harm and Colonel MacKenzie. Now a lot of that anger has been replaced with anxiety.

She goes to the sink and turns on the water, muttering something about 'bitch.' That must be me. I'm not quite certain anyone has ever referred to me as a bitch before in my entire life. Well, this has certainly been a year for changes. Adulteress. Liar. Bitch. All sorts of new names for me.

Not moving, I hope she goes away soon. I can't just walk out of here now, not with my face stained with tears. Singer's probably stuck up enough to believe they're for her and what I just did. She doesn't know a damn thing and I hope to keep it that way. Finally, she mutters 'bitch' a few more times and goes on her way.

God, I wish there was someone I could talk to but there's no one. Maybe I could call my mom and talk to her. No, I can't do that. She would tell me this is what I get for marrying a man like Bud. She'd remind me that I settled for this life when I could have had better. When I could have had someone like Harmon Rabb.

Well, now I've had him and look at me. I'm crying my eyes out in the bathroom. At least Bud never runs off trying to get himself killed. Or at least he doesn't do it as often as Harm. No, Bud is nice and safe which is what marriage is all about.

Nice and safe is apparently what I need.

**************

PART XIV  
I stand back and watch her work for a few minutes before saying anything. She has a bleak expression on her face, as if she's done this job for too long now, and I suppose maybe she has. It can't be an easy job identifying all these remains, even if most of the shattered fragments of human beings before her belong to the enemy.

Terri must feel me staring at her because she looks up, gives me a slight smile and then returns to her work. I move across the lab and stand next to her, watching as she carefully handles a scrap of something for further testing. I don't even want to know what it is a scrap of.

"I haven't had much of a chance to ask how you've been," I say and she doesn't answer right away but continues to work. "So, how have you been?"

"I've been up to here in DNA samples," she says, motioning to about eye level. "I'm sorry I haven't been in touch since . . . then."

I know exactly what she's referring to and I look away. Jordan's death was an incredible shock and I still find it hard to discuss.

"That's okay," I say. "I'm sure you've been busy."

"After 9/11, I volunteered to help identify the Trade Center victims until we started our assault over here. Then I asked to be recalled to do this job. So many lives lost both here and there," she says, shaking her head as she looks at all the vials around her.

"Yeah."

"But I still should have called to see how you were doing."

"It's really okay. I've been doing well. Almost drowned at sea, but besides that, things haven't been bad," I say and watch her crack a slight smile. "It can't be easy, all of this."

"I had to do something to help. It was harder being back in the States," she says.

"That I can completely understand," I say. There are days I wish I could be back flying an F-14 and doing something more than I am. But then again, I would have missed so many other things if that was the life I still had.

"I saw bits and pieces of news about the tribunal. You seem to be doing your fair share in the war effort," she says, looking up at me. "And you look relatively happy all things considering. I take it everything is going well with Renee?"

I look down at my feet again for a second as she brings up another thing I don't want to talk about. "We broke up. She . . . well, she married a mortician and is having his baby."

"Is that why you look so happy or is there someone else? Maybe Colonel . . ."

"No. There's no one. There's been no one else since she left," I say defensively, lying to one more person. She gets this hurt look on her face.

"Okay. I'm sorry for asking."

"No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bark at you like that," I say and she gives me a nod. I can't believe out of all the attractive and smart women I know in my life, the one I fell for is married. I can't believe that I let it go as far as it did without realizing how bad it would be when it was over. Most of all, I hate to think what all these people are going to think of me if or when Bud ever finds out. I should have said no but I didn't and now, sooner or later, I'm going to pay for it. I could have paid in the minefield or with the shelling but yet, here I still am, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"You look lost in thought," she says and I nod. "Thinking about how you guys are going to locate Kabir?"

Her question draws me back to the task at hand and not the mess I left behind at home. "I was hoping that Clayton Webb was going to take care of that," I say with a smirk. "Mac and I are heading out again soon. I just wanted to talk before I left."

"I'm sorry about Kabir getting away."

"That would have been too easy except it wasn't easy at all, was it? Nothing is easy in this or any war," I say and she nods in agreement. I look at all the samples before her again. "And look at the price that's been paid."

"And it's not over yet," she says.

"No, it's not. It's far from over."

*************

I couldn't stop crying the whole way home. I picked up AJ at daycare with tears in my eyes. I made him dinner with my tears running down my cheeks. I fought them off all day, ever since I heard the news that Harm and Colonel MacKenzie were accounted for and very much alive and well. Only when I was alone in my car did I allow them to fall.

Now I'm at home and staring at the computer screen, reading my e-mail and blinking away even more tears.

Bud wrote to tell me about how bad he feels for having the final say on the bombing that nearly killed Commander Rabb and Colonel MacKenzie. He had no way to know they were in a hot zone and still he feels bad. That's so . . . Bud.

All the time they were missing, I thought I was being punished. Harm was dead and it was my punishment for cheating on Bud. Now Bud is feeling guilty about nearly accidentally killing Harm and I don't know what to say. If he finds out about what we were doing while he was away, he's going to want to kill him. Or me.

There's no e-mail from Harm. I didn't really expect any since I have no idea where he is or how he'd send e-mail anyway. I just thought . . . I don't know what I thought. I close everything down without responding to Bud. I don't know what to tell him anymore. He's in the middle of a war yet here, life continues on.

"AJ, let's go outside," I say to my son, and he smiles up at me happily. The evening sun is starting to disappear behind the trees but we have time to go out for a quick swing.

He holds on tightly to my hand all the way across the lawn and giggles with delight as I put him on the swing and push gently. I can't believe I was willing to risk all of this and for what? A few moments outside of the confines of marriage? The knowledge that someone else could fall for me? I don't know what I was looking for and maybe I never will.

It was fun and exciting while it lasted but that's not what my life is about. Now look at how much fun I'm having. No, this isn't fun at all. I'm torn between knowing what I should do and what I want to do and I have just got to stop it. It's over and there's no use thinking that it's not.

"Mommy, higher!" AJ shouts and I push him just a little higher. He demands to go even higher but I know better. I don't want him falling off and getting hurt. It's my job to keep him happy and safe and give him a good home. It's not my job to pull his home apart by doing stupid, stupid things.

AJ looks back at me and I start crying again. He's so beautiful that there are times I can't help but to cry. He's a happy and giving person much like his father. Yes, his father who went away to serve his country during a time of war while his wife spent that same time screwing one of his best friends. God, I have to stop thinking about it. What is done is done and I can't change it now. All I can do is wipe out everything that reminds me of what I did.

I'm going to paint that room a different color. I'm going to get rid of that stupid wing chair. I'll get rid of the couch where we kissed. I look at this monstrosity of a swing set in my backyard and wish I could make it disappear but I can't get rid of everything. Harm is still going to be in the office everyday, a constant reminder of what we have done. Maybe if I talk to him, he'll realize that we . . . I can't work like that. Maybe he'll ask to be assigned elsewhere.

No, that will never work. Perhaps Bud will have changed his mind about Europe by now. Probably not after I bought this damn house. It's always the house. If I could change one thing in my life it would be the moment I asked Harm to help me buy a house. I could have asked so many other people but I had to ask him.

"I'm tired," AJ says and I stop his swing so he can climb off. He takes my hand in his and starts to pull me back towards the house but I stop him. Taking him in my arms, I hug him tight and he wraps his little arms around my neck, hugging me back.

"You know I'll love you until the end of time?" I ask and he laughs again before placing lots of little kisses all over my face.

"Love you, Mommy," he says and leans back in my arms. "Are you done crying?"

I smile at him, my beautiful boy, and blink back the tears that want to start falling again. He doesn't need to see me like this. He would never understand it and I hope in his entire lifetime, he never finds out what I did. I couldn't live with that.

"I think I'm done. Maybe one more kiss to make sure?" I ask and he gives me a quick kiss.

"Better, Mommy?" he asks, his arms still holding on to me with all his strength.

"Oh, yes. Now Mommy is all better," I say, moving him to my hip as we make our way together to the house. "You always make everything better."

************

PART XV  
"This is a fine way to ruin a day," Mac says from the other side of the sick bay. Her tone is as somber as the mood of all the people who have spent the day running tests on us. I can tell that something big is happening outside of this room but they aren't telling us much yet and I can't believe I'm stuck in here.

"Tell me about it."

"I've been thinking about things and I don't really want to go out in a radioactive blaze of glory," she says.

"No kidding?"

"You know, maybe I don't want to go out in a blaze of glory after all," she says. I'm sure she's just trying to come up with something to talk about to pass this unbearable waiting period but I don't want to get into the whole death thing with her again.

"That's good news," I say, continuing to pace back and forth across the tiny room. "What made you change your mind?"

"Then again, it would be better than a slow and painful death due to radiation," she says without answering my question.

"We aren't going to die. Not today anyway," I say, stopping long enough to give her an admonishing look. She rolls her eyes at me and I go back to pacing.

"Could you stop that?" she asks, sounding quite annoyed.

"When they let us out of here, I'll stop," I say. She stands up and grabs my arm, pulling me across the room. She shoves me into the chair she was just occupying and she stands over me with her arms crossed until she's convinced I'm staying put.

"Pacing isn't going to change the results of those tests," she says, pulling herself up onto the examination table.

"I feel like we should be doing something and instead here we are, contemplating how we do or, in my case, don't want to die," I say, wishing someone would give us some information.

"I'm the one contemplating that, not you," Mac says, sounding disappointed that I refuse to play along with her.

"Okay, how's this -- I don't want to die until I'm so old I wouldn't know the difference. Maybe when that day comes, I'll consider it. I want to be in my own bed and in my own room . . . the walls are painted a nice shade of apple green . . . the windows are open wide. Carried on the breeze, I can hear kids laughing somewhere. Maybe they're my grandchildren, maybe they're just kids in the neighborhood. Then it just happens. One second I'm there, the next second I'm gone," I say and she stares at me, her mouth hanging open.

"Apple green?" is what she finally manages to say after an extended silence.

"That's not the point. The point is I don't want to die some heroic death because despite the circumstances, I'll still be dead. When I'm flying F-14s, I don't think about dying, I think about living. My goal is to get back on the carrier or on the ground without incident," I say and she looks away.

"Surely you must think about it. Harm, in the last few days, you've almost died twice . . . maybe three times. If you had to, wouldn't you want it to be grand and heroic?" she says and I interrupt her.

"Stepping on a landmine is heroic?" I ask and she continues to stare off at the wall. "All I'm saying is there's a lot to live for in this world."

"For example?'

"What?"

"What are you living for right now, Harm?" she asks, looking at me now, her eyes searching mine for answers I'm afraid to give her. I can't tell her about Harriet, not even in a roundabout way. I can't tell her that I don't want to die today because there's someone back home who probably would blame herself for it, thinking it was some sort of punishment for what we've done. I don't answer and she looks away again. "Someday, after you've let go, is there a chance you might tell me?"

"I don't know yet," I say and she sighs. "Mac, you're one of the reasons . . . our friendship is one the reasons I'd rather be alive. Why would I want to give that up for a moment of glory?"

This time when she turns to me, a smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. Before I can say anything else, a corpsman enters the room and Mac and I both stand up, ready to accept whatever news he might have.

"You're both out of any danger," he says and I let out a sigh of relief. I can finally get out of here and find out what in the hell is going on out there.

"Is there anything we need to . . ." Mac starts to ask but another officer comes in the room and she falls silent.

"There's no time for that now," the Lieutenant says. "Colonel MacKenzie, you're wanted on the bridge. Commander Rabb, you need to be in ready room two ASAP. Your RIO, Lt. Jorgenson, is already . . ."

"What?" we both ask at the same time, the surprise registering in both of our voices.

"She's already there. Based on your Missle-X scores, they're sending you up, sir," he says, nodding to both of us.

"What?" I ask alone this time.

"They'll brief you fully when you get there, sir. That's all I know," he says and I look to Mac who is now shaking her head in confusion.

"That's the Black Jack's ready room, right?" I ask even though I know the answer.

"It is, sir," he says and Mac and I take off out of the sickbay.

"Missle-X?" she asks before we can get to far.

"It's a test that involves shooting down a missle traveling almost as fast as the F-14. I was pretty good at it when I was assigned here. Huh. Meet the future of counter-terrorism," I say, beginning to put all the pieces together in my head. Someone is launching a missile that needs to be taken out before it can reach its target.

"Do you know what you're doing?" she asks.

"Theoretically," I say, and she gives me a puzzled look.

"What?"

"I know what I'm doing, Mac."

"Be careful out there. Despite that blaze of glory thing, I would kind of like to see you back here," she says, not hiding the worried look on her face.

"You know, there are rumors that Butch and Sundance didn't die . . ."

"Harm, a lot of bad things have happened in the last few days. Just come back, okay?"

"I don't plan on this day being ruined anymore than it already has been. I'll be fine," I say before leaving her standing there to make my way to the ready room. It's only then that I wonder if Harriet has any clue about what's really going on out here and how she's taking it. I shake away the thought, knowing I don't have time to worry about that now.

**************

I look at the yellow couch again before walking across the showroom to look at the blue one. I really don't like either of them that much but I need . . . something. I'm not sure what I need and I'm almost certain a new couch isn't it but still here I am on my lunch break, walking back and forth between these two couches.

What I want is different from what I need. That's an easy one. I want it all to be back the way it was before. I want this overwhelming ache to go away. I want to be in love with only one person. I want for all of this mess to simply be gone. Unfortunately, I can't have any of that easily. What I can have is new furniture.

The sales associate watches me from a distance, waiting for me to make up my mind. I think his name is Larry and he's already approached me twice. I'm sure Larry's not going to make that mistake a third time. I really just want to be left alone in my misery.

I had to get out of the office for a while. With everything going on, my nerves were getting to me. I know I don't know the whole story but from what I understand, Bud and Harm are both on the Seahawk and something serious is going on. I should be back at the office but I just needed to get away for a few minutes.

Sitting on the blue couch I'm not so sure I like, I take one of the pillows and hold it close to me. Larry assumes this must mean my mind is made up and he comes a little closer. When I don't brush him off, he comes even closer.

"Have you made up your mind?" he asks, trying hard to sound happy to have me as a customer.

"Yeah. Do I want ordinary and blue or do I want flashy and yellow?" I ask and he looks puzzled.

"Ma'am?"

"I'll go with the ordinary and blue. I always settle for something ordinary," I say and Larry takes a step away from me.

"The yellow would be a nice choice, too," he says and I just shake my head.

"My husband would like the blue. He won't say it but I know he would. Instead he lets me make my own decisions, trusting me to do the right thing," I say, knowing that I'm babbling right now. Actually, I'm spinning out of control and I don't know what to do about it.

I can't stop worrying. I can't sleep at night, I worry so much. Most everything I love is out on a carrier somewhere and I have no idea what's happening. I need to stop worrying. What could happen to couple of attorneys on a carrier? And why am I hiding in a furniture store? I should be in the office, waiting for the outcome of everything, not hiding out here, frightened of what might happen.

"I think the blue would be the right way to go," Larry says and I wish he would just go. Instead, he sits down on the big chair opposite of me and we end up staring at each other.

"The reason I'm here . . . this has nothing to do with buying a couch," I say and he nods.

"I figured as much."

"I mean, I'm going to buy a couch and probably a few chairs. But I just really needed to get away and think," I say and he nods again. He pulls a pair of glasses out of his breast pocket and slides them on, pushing them up constantly so they stay on his nose.

"Anything you want to talk about?" he asks and my mouth drops open.

"With you?"

"If it will help you make up your mind, I'll listen," he says and for some reason that makes me smile. I know he just wants to make a sale but he doesn't have to listen to me or to my worries.

"If I order this couch today, when can it be delivered?" I ask and that makes Larry smile. "See, I'd like to have this party for my husband when he comes home and it would be great if I could have the couch and chairs that are there gone and this couch there instead."

"You sure you want the blue? Yellow is a good choice, too," he says and I cock my head to the side and consider it for a second. Am I picking the blue because I think I owe it to Bud? The color of the couch isn't going to make up for everything and I know that. Nothing will ever make up for what I did and I'm going to have to live with that for the rest of my life.

I look at the row of grandfather clocks displayed next to the couches and realize I only have a few minutes left to decide. I should go with the blue. I wouldn't have to repaint the living room if I bought the blue couch but instead of just doing it, I stand up to check out the yellow couch one more time. Larry gets up to follow me.

It's an ordinary and mundane decision but at least it's something I have control over.

**************

PART XVI  
Stepping out of the ready room, I find Mac and Bud both waiting for me, huge smiles plastered on their faces.

"I guess you really are the brains of the operation, Butch," Mac jokes, reaching out to touch me as if she can't really believe I made it through this one. She was on the bridge so she would have watched me return to the carrier but even so she looks incredibly relieved.

"I already knew that," I say with a smile and Mac just shakes her head in amusement until everything starts shaking. We're right beneath the number one wire and it shudders violently when someone makes a trap. On days like today, that's pretty constant. She holds onto me for just a little too long and when everything stops pitching around, she pulls her hand away quickly, looking at Bud to see if he noticed. He didn't.

"I have to get back to the filling out reports. There's quite a bit of paperwork concerning or adventures over the last few days. You'll be by later to help me, right?" she says and I roll my eyes.

"Somehow, I knew the excitement wasn't over for today," I say and she laughs before leaving Bud and me alone.

"That was amazing, sir," Bud says, clapping me on the back as if I'm some hero and I feel this horrible pang of guilt rise in my chest.

"Just another ordinary day in the life of a JAG lawyer," I say, heading towards my stateroom with Bud following behind me.

"Right, sir. My life revolves around paperwork, not being the big hero and saving an entire battle group. After reworking the rules of engagement, the next most exciting thing I have in my life is getting some money to rebuild a school," Bud says.

"You'll be home in a few weeks, Bud. That's got to be exciting. Just hang in there," I say, unable to look him in the eye.

"Yeah, because then I can help Harriet decide whether to buy a yellow sofa or a blue one. I have no idea what's wrong with the furniture we already have. It's not that old. I have no idea what's wrong with Harriet for that matter. She's so moody lately. It's almost like when she was first pregnant with little AJ," he says with a sigh and I stop walking.

"What . . . um . . . what's wrong with Harriet?"

"Nothing, sir. It's just Harriet wants new furniture now for the house. We just bought new end tables and a chair last year. Have no idea what has gotten into her. I'm here in the middle of a war and she's off shopping," he says, looking quite frustrated about the whole thing.

"I can't imagine what the problem is, Bud, except you are off in a war and she's got to make some sort of normal life for herself," I say, feeling like shit for saying anything about his wife and marriage. I start walking again and Bud keeps up. It's only then that I realize I really have nowhere to go. I stop and turn to Bud. "I suppose during that whole missile crisis, there isn't much of a chance I was assigned to quarters? I could really use a minute to clear my head before I have to go help Mac with that paperwork."

"Actually, sir, no. But you can use my quarters for the time being while I look into it. No one else should be off duty now," Bud says, turning us in the other direction. Now I'm following him until we get to his quarters. I really do need a moment to clear my head after the last few hours.

"Thanks, Bud," I say and he looks like he wants to ask me anything. I hope that isn't the case because I don't know what to say to him anymore. "Anything else?"

"Is she really okay?" Bud asks and I look away from him.

"Harriet?"

"Yeah. She just seems, I don't know . . . " he says, starting up again on this topic. I don't have the answers for him about his wife. Or rather, I do, but it isn't what he would ever want to hear.

"Bud, I think you're worrying about nothing. Harriet and AJ are both fine and you'll be home with them in a short time. If Harriet thinks she needs a new couch, let her buy one. It's better than some of the other things she could be doing while you're away," I say, looking at him again. He thinks I'm kidding.

"You're pretty funny, sir," Bud says with a smile. "I'll see you later. I have to go check on my some things with Jen . . . Petty Officer Coates."

I step into his quarters and sit down on the one chair in the tiny room. Only then do the emotions I've buried so well come to the surface in a flood. I lied to Mac. I do think of the ways I could die and being outrun by a cruise missile never really occurred to me before today. Death is part of what we do but to have it tailing behind me . . . I don't want to try that again.

Looking around, I notice that the few personal pictures in the room belong to Bud. Harriet is staring back at me from behind a piece of glass, little AJ in held tight in her arms. I wonder if I had died and Bud had lived, would she have told him about the affair? Would she lie to protect my memory? It doesn't really matter. We both survived this day and only one of us gets to go home to her.

Does anyone realize that I hesitated for a second today, worried that I might never see her again? Of course they couldn't have noticed. Only I knew when I did it. I don't remember ever hesitating even for a moment before today, never putting anything at home before my job. I want to see her again and I know it's wrong but I can't make the feeling go away. I have to let go and I'm not sure how.

I pick up one of the other pictures he has. It's a wedding portrait and she's so beautiful and happy. I remember standing beside them, thinking nothing could ever come between them and no two people could love each other more. I never imagined I could come between them. Despite everything Bud has, he wants to be more than he is and I wish I could be him so I could be going home to that. I'm sure he'll write to her and tell her all about what happened today. I would but I shouldn't. It's not my place.

I stare at their smiling faces until it hurts and then I put it back.

**************

I close out the e-mail I received from Bud and check one more time to see if I got any from someone else. Of course I didn't. Bud was vague in his mail about what has been going on and I suppose he has to be. So much happens out there that I don't know about. All he said was he is fine as are Commander Rabb and Colonel MacKenzie. I wish I knew more but I suppose working here, I know more than most Navy wives and I shouldn't take that for granted.

Typing out a quick message, I let Bud know I bought a new couch and that AJ is doing well and loves his swing. I let him know that I'm glad they're all okay out there and that I'm happy he'll be home soon. I don't know what else to say to him so I hit send.

I'm not quite sure if he's happy about coming home. After being in the middle of things, I suppose it's going to be a let down coming home to a wife and kid and a new yellow couch.

"Did you hear from Lieutenant Roberts yet?" Lieutenant Singer asks from behind me and I close down the computer and turn to face her.

"Yes, I have," I say as I start to gather my belongings together. I know she spent a lot of time with the Admiral during this latest crisis and I'm sure she's going to have to shove that in my face. It's always something with her.

"We almost lost several lawyers today," she says, sounding so snide that I wish I could hit her again.

"I bet that would have made you really happy," I say and she doesn't even pretend to look shocked. "Whose office would you have moved into next? Commander Rabb's? Or maybe you like Colonel MacKenzie's better?"

"You certainly have some issues to work out, don't you? Maybe you should try some anger management. Or perhaps you'll be all better if that husband of yours does manage to make it back alive," she says.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It was closer out there than you'll ever know. If it weren't for Commanders Turner and Rabb . . . I just don't know," she says, walking away.

It's then that all my anxieties get the better of me. I know I shouldn't be worried but I can't help it. Bud told me himself that they were all okay. He doesn't have much more time out there and then he'll be home. I have to get over this feeling that something bad is coming because that's just my own guilt getting the better of me. We all aren't going to be punished like that. Oh, I'm certain there's going to be a price to pay because I had an affair but I'm sure it will be paid with lost careers and ruined friendships.

I know it's crazy, but I'm so far away from everything and everyone and I need someone to tell me that it's all going to be okay. I'm not even sure why I'm anxious because the worst has to be over. Getting up, I walk to the Admiral's door and nearly convince myself that I'm crazy for having these feelings. I'm not even sure who I'm more worried about but no one can know that.

"Excuse me, sir, do you have a second?" I ask Admiral Chegwidden, still feeling foolish for taking such a little problem to him.

"Come on in. I thought you had gone home, Lieutenant."

"Just headed that way, sir."

"Is that a look of concern?" he asks, taking off his glasses. He looks at me with thoughtful consideration and I hesitate. This is really silly. He can't make my problems or worries go away. It's just that without anyone around here to talk to, my nervousness just keeps getting worse.

"Just having a little anxiety, sir. I haven't slept in a couple of days."

"Your husband's in a war zone," he says to me in his matter of fact tone. The problem is, he doesn't know that Bud's not the only one in a war zone I'm worried about.

"Yes, sir, but . . . he's on an aircraft carrier in the middle of the sea. This is just silly. I'll get over it. Thank you, sir," I say, turning to go, embarrassed that I came to him in the first place.

"Lieutenant," he says, calling me back.

"Yes, sir?"

"In case you don't get over it, call me. Anytime," he says and I know he's sincere about his offer. I also know that there's not much chance I'll be calling him with my problems. That would be completely out of line.

"Thank you sir," I say, leaving his office. I wish that made me feel better but . . . oh, I don't know what. I have to have faith that they both really are safe out there at sea. Yet, in spite of what anyone says to me, I bet I still don't get much sleep tonight.

**************

PART XVII  
The hatch to the office opens and someone steps in without saying a word. I turn to find Mac standing there, her face incredibly pale.

"You okay?" I ask and she just stares at me, unblinking. "Mac, did something happen? Are you getting sick?"

"Harm, there was an incident . . . um . . . a few minutes ago . . ." she starts to say but has to stop. She looks up, swallows hard and blinks back the tears that are starting to well up in her eyes. I stand up, reaching out to hold her by the arm. Whatever it is, it's bad.

"Mac? What in the hell happened?" I ask and she swallows again.

"Bud . . . he was . . . oh, hell," she says, moving away from me and sitting down in the chair.

"Mac, what happened to Bud?" I ask, my heart pounding so loudly that I'm not sure I'll be able to hear whatever she has to say.

"He and Petty Officer Coates were on their way to the village for that thing with the school and there was an accident," she says and my mind can't even begin to put together what might have happened. He asked us earlier if we wanted to go along with them but I was too busy with paperwork. Or at least that was my excuse since the real reason I didn't want to go is I feel so fucking guilty about everything that it hurts to be around him.

"Is he . . . God, Mac . . . is he dead?" I ask, finding it hard to get that word out.

"He's . . . it's pretty bad, but he's alive. He stepped on a landmine, Harm. They're bringing him back here now," she says and all of a sudden, the room starts to fade around me. Mac is quickly on her feet reaching for me this time. "Whoa, there. Don't you do that to me now."

"I have to call Harriet," I say, looking around the room. The fucking room is still spinning and it's not like I'm in my office at JAG with a damn desk phone right there anyway. "I have to tell her that it's not her fault."

"What?" Mac asks and I shake the cobwebs out of my head.

"I have to call her, Mac. I have to be the one," I say and Mac pushes me until I'm sitting down in the chair.

"It's going to be taken care of, Harm. There's no way for you to call her from here anyway," she says and I keep shaking my head.

"Oh my God," I say and I'm vaguely aware that Mac has her arms around my shoulders.

"I know. He's one of your best friends . . ."

"No, this isn't happening," I say, standing up and pushing her away. "This can't happen. No way."

"Harm, he should be here by now. You should be with him," she says and I even though I know I should be halfway to him by now, I can't make my feet move.

"I . . . I will. Mac, if they have to take him to a hospital can you take care of the arrangements so I can go with?" I ask and she nods her head. She doesn't know why I need this so badly. She just thinks it's because he's my friend and I want to be there. That's part of it but I have to do this in case he doesn't make it. After failing him so much in the last few months, I have to be there now. And I have to be there for Harriet.

There is no damn way this can be happening. I'm the one who should be injured. I fucked around with death so many times in the last few weeks and look at me, healthy as can be. Bud was just being helpful. He was doing something that was so quintessential Bud.

"I'll take care of everything," Mac says and I leave her standing there as I make my way to sickbay. They're just bringing him in as I arrive and a corpsman shoves me back as the medical staff swarms around him, shouting out all sorts of things I don't understand. I can barely make him out through all the people.

"I hope you're not here to start filling out reports already, Commander," the corpsman who took care of us the other day says as they rush about the room and I shake my head.

"No, he's . . . he's my best friend. I was the best man at his wedding . . . oh, God," I say, finally getting a good look at the extent of his injuries. I close my eyes. That could have been me. That should have been me. What in the hell were you doing going off the road that had been cleared, Bud? What in the hell were you thinking?

"It looks worse than it really is, sir," someone else says and I open my eyes and stare at all of them as they continue to rush around him. I'm sure they're just trying to make me feel better but it isn't working.

"No, it's worse than you could ever imagine," I mutter under my breath and then offer up a prayer that this time, everything really does turn out all right.

**************

Something is ringing. I sit up in bed, completely disoriented, as I try to figure out where that noise is coming from. I hit the alarm clock but that doesn't make it stop. It's the doorbell. Someone is ringing my doorbell in the middle of the night. Or at least I think it's the middle of the night. I was barely asleep and after not sleeping for so many nights, I'm really out of it. Maybe it's almost morning. I don't know.

I turn on the light and try to focus on the clock. When I finally realize the time, my heart nearly stops. I close my eyes, welcoming the darkness. If I sit here still enough, whatever it is will go away. I can stop the world for just another second and pretend that nothing's wrong.

I know better. No one calls or rings the doorbell at this hour with good news. AJ starts crying out for me from his room and I force myself out of the bed. My legs are like rubber as I make my way down the hallway and into AJ's room. I pick him up and clutch onto him so tightly he cries even more but I have to hold onto some bit of this reality right now. We somehow make it down the stairs and to the door.

Opening the door, I find Admiral Chegwidden there, looking grim. That's when my legs stop working. He grabs for me before I fall and holds both me and little AJ up and now I'm crying along with my baby.

"Lieutenant Sims, you've got to listen to me," the Admiral says and I shake my head. I don't want to hear what he has to say. I don't want to know more than I already do just from him being here. "Come on, Harriet, be strong for me."

Somehow he moves us both to the living room and I'm on the couch, AJ in my arms holding onto me with all this strength.

"When did it happen?" I ask, my voice barely rising above a whisper.

"He's not dead, Harriet," he says and I struggle for breath. He's alive. Thank God. Oh, thank God. He's alive. "There was an accident, though."

"What happened?"

"Bud stepped on a landmine," he says, not sugar coating anything, and my mind can't even begin to fathom how that might have happened.

"On an aircraft carrier?" I ask, knowing it's a stupid question but he's on a ship at sea and he's not supposed to step on landmines. It's not supposed to happen.

"No, he was in country and I don't really know much more than that. They took him to the Seahawk and now he's on his way to Naples," he says and I have a million questions that I'm sure he doesn't have any answers to. "Commander Rabb is with him now."

I shut my eyes again and the world starts spinning away on me. I feel Admiral Chegwidden take AJ from me as I try to regain some control. I can't. This can't be happening. We're paying for what we did in the worst way possible.

"He's going to Italy with him?" I manage to ask.

"Yes, he is."

"Was he with him when the accident happened?" I ask though I don't know what difference it would have made. I just need to know if someone was with Bud at the time.

"I don't know. Harriet, I think it would be best if you went to Italy, too," the Admiral says and that's what finally makes me open my eyes. "I'll make the arrangements . . ."

"What?"

"It's serious," he says and I feel everything start to go fade away. He wouldn't tell me to go there if it wasn't truly serious.

"How bad?" I ask, still trying to pull myself together. Time. What time is it now? I look at the clock and realize that only a few minutes have passed since the doorbell rang but it feels like an eternity.

"I don't have all the information yet, Harriet. All I know is there was extensive damage to one of his legs," he says. Somehow, I should have known that since it was a landmine but I . . . oh God.

"And Harm is with him?"

"Yes."

"But Harm wasn't hurt?" I ask, trying to clear it all up in my mind one more time.

"As far as I know, Commander Rabb wasn't injured," Admiral Chegwidden answers and I know he already said about that. I know everything he's said but I can't wrap my mind around any of it.

I stand up, my legs still wobbly, and he stands up, too. AJ is still in his arms, fussing around and I reach for him. "Come here, sweetie," I say and he dives towards me.

"Harriet, in all seriousness, you should go," the Admiral says again and I nod my head. He follows me into the kitchen as I start to figure out what needs to happen next.

"I knew something bad was going to happen, sir, I just didn't think this would be it," I say. I need my address book. I have to call people. I have to call my mother. She can fly here today to take care of AJ. I have to figure out how to contact Mikey and . . . oh, God. It's all too much. I put AJ down at the kitchen table and he reaches for some paper and crayons.

"It will be all right, Harriet," he says and his words stop me in my tracks.

"Don't say that, sir. Every time someone says that to me, something goes wrong. Why should I start believing it now?" I ask and he gives me a curious look. "I told him to go there. I told him it would be good for his career and now everything is ruined."

"Harriet, he's alive and he'll be coming home . . ."

"To what? He'll be coming home to this huge mess I've made. That's what he's coming home to," I say and he just shakes his head, not understanding. There's no way I can ever tell Bud now. He can't find out. Ever.

I start crying again and it quickly turns into uncontrollable sobbing. Admiral Chegwidden watches me fall apart for a few seconds before he pulls me into his arms again, holding me tight. No, nothing is ever going to be all right again. That is my punishment.

**************

PART XVIII  
Sitting by his bedside for hours, I've watched doctors and nurses come and go. I've seen several shifts now, all of them just doing the same job. They change the bandages and check his vitals and move on to the next patient, all of them giving me a little smile or a nod as they go. One told me to go and get some rest but I can't leave. Guilt is keeping me here in this chair.

After surgery, Bud has only been awake for short stretches of time and hasn't been very coherent at all during those periods. I'm not even sure if they've been able to explain to him fully what happened. There has been some questions about his hearing since . . . hell. I can't even bring myself to say it.

I don't know why this happened to him. He's the good guy in all of this and look at him now. It's not fair.

"Should've been me," I mumble to no one.

Bud turns to me, his eyes open and I sit up in my chair, surprised that he's awake.

"What . . . are you talking about, sir?" Bud asks, struggling to get the words out, his throat parched.

"Don't talk. Let me get the doctor," I say, standing up. He shakes his head and motions for me to sit back down. "I have to, Bud. They'll want to see you again."

"In a minute . . . nothing's going to change in a minute."

"One minute, then I'm calling your doctor," I say and he nods.

"I was just dreaming about Harriet," he says, his voice weak. He licks his lips before going on. "Her eyes. They're the most beautiful color."

"Yes, they are," I say, looking away from him. "Do you remember what happened?"

"Not really. I was . . . I was walking with Jen . . . Petty Officer Coates and then I was here," he says with a sigh. "All I remember was thinking about Harriet's eyes. I wanted to live to see them again. And AJ. I wanted to get home to push him on his new swing."

"The Petty Officer says there was a little boy playing on the side of the road, Bud. Do you remember that?" I ask, looking at him again. He looks puzzled and shakes his head. "She ran to get help and that's when . . . that's when the accident happened."

"I remember . . . I don't know what I remember."

"Petty Officer Coates says you were worried about the boy. Bud, did you step off the road trying to save him?" I ask and now Bud turns his head away from me. "Bud?"

"How bad is it, sir?" he asks through his tears. He doesn't know yet or he doesn't remember what they told him earlier. He must have some clue that it's bad because he's here but he doesn't know.

"I'll get the doctor," I say, standing to go but before I can get by him, Bud reaches out for me and grabs my hand.

"No, you tell me," he says, and I sit on the edge of his hospital bed. "You're my friend. You tell me."

"Bud, I . . ."

"Please," he says, still holding onto my hand. "Is it so bad that I'm going to lose Harriet?"

"What would make you ask that?"

"Just a feeling," he says, sounding weaker with every word.

"Bud, you and Harriet have survived the worst that can be thrown at two people. Things might be a little rocky for a while, but you'll get through this. I'm going to make sure of it," I say, letting go of his hand and moving back to the chair.

"Tell me."

"You stepped on a landmine, Bud. Your right leg was severed below the knee. They determined there wasn't any further damage but for a while they were concerned there might be some temporary hearing loss due to the proximity . . . but apparently not," I say and Bud stares up at the ceiling, blinking hard.

"How could I be so stupid?" he asks.

"Stupid?"

"I stepped off the road and I knew better than to do that. I knew what could happen and look . . ." he says, his voice cracking.

"Bud, stop it. You were trying to save someone. What you did is what you would do. You saw a little boy where he shouldn't have been and you were more worried about him than you were about yourself," I say, pulling my chair closer to the side of his bed.

"I was more worried about some stranger than I was about what would happen to Harriet and AJ if I died," he says, shaking his head.

"Yeah, Bud. You were worried about some stranger and that's what makes a hero. You probably didn't hesitate for one second before taking action and risking your life for his. It's what you do. You always think of everybody else," I say and Bud turns to look at me, tears streaking his face.

"You're supposed to always be the hero," he says and I sigh. "You fly in and save the day. You get the glory. You would never do anything this stupid."

"You think I haven't done stupid things in my life? Some of the things I've done . . . trust me, they weren't smart and they certainly weren't heroic. They were stupid and careless and . . ." I stop before I say something I shouldn't. The things I've done lately were stupid and careless and now we all have to pay.

"How can she love me like this?" Bud asks. He sounds so broken hearted that it hurts.

"Because she's Harriet. I know exactly how much of a heart Harriet has, Bud, and how much she can love. I know . . . Bud, she loves you and this isn't going to change it," I say, almost sorry that it's the truth. If there ever was a chance of Harriet leaving him, it's long over now.

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do. Bud, she's . . . she's Harriet. You get to go home to Harriet. You're alive and you get to go home to her while people like me are going to be staying behind on the Seahawk," I say and he just blinks at me. "As soon as you head home, I'm going to do your job until they find a replacement."

"Harm . . ."

"It will only be for a few weeks. Don't ask why, Bud, but it's for the best. I'm going to get your doctor," I say and this time he lets me leave. Luckily, I make it out of the door before the tears start to fall.

**************

I can tell by the look on his face that it's bad. He has a forced smile on his face and . . . Oh God. I command my legs to not buckle under me, ordering one foot to move in front of the other but I'm not sure how I'm going to make it down the corridor. I feel like I've just run a marathon and I'm going to collapse in this hallway.

Harm quickens his pace and before my legs give out on me, I'm in his arms. I don't know what to say. I know I should say something but I don't know what. Instead, I just hold onto him as tightly as I can, my fingers clutching at his uniform shirt.

"Are you okay?" he asks, surely knowing that I'm not.

"Do you know . . . do you even have a clue how worried I've been these last few days?" I ask him and all he does is rock me slowly in his arms. The tears start flowing for the hundredth time this hour and they stain the front of his uniform. Neither of us cares right now. We don't care what this might look like or who might be watching.

"I know. I'm sorry. I wanted to call you so many times but there was no way. I wanted . . . I just wanted to hold you," he says, wrapping me even tighter in his arms. I'm never going to be here again. I know that. I just want to feel this and talk to him one last time before I have to move on.

"I understand that you saved a battle group," I say softly and he stops moving.

"Stop it."

"What?"

"Don't. It was nothing. Absolutely nothing," he says rather brusquely and I don't know why he's talking like this to me.

"But it was something . . ." I start to say and he interrupts me.

"Do you know why Bud stepped off the road and onto a landmine, Harriet?" he asks and I shake my head. No one could tell me what really happened. No one seems to be able to give me a straight answer. "He was trying to save a child, Harriet. Bud stepped off the road and into a mine field because he saw a little boy there and he was trying to save him."

"He risked everything for some boy he didn't know?" I ask.

"Yes."

I'm torn inside, mad that Bud would risk his life with AJ and me for a stranger and so incredibly proud of him for not hesitating before taking action. That's the man I fell in love with -- the man who would do exactly that.

I look at the man before me and smile through all the tears. Harm is larger than life, saving thousands but my husband is the one who risked everything to save one small child.

"He didn't hesitate. He acted. When you see him, he's feeling a little guilty about that. He thinks that you're going to be mad or disappointed in him. He's in mourning, Harriet and he thinks you're going to leave him because of this. Tell him that he's brave, okay? Tell him I never would have done that," he says and I can tell he's struggling to not cry.

"Would you have?" I ask and Harm shakes his head.

"I don't know, Harriet. I really don't know," he says, letting go of my arms and taking my hands in his instead. I know he's probably lying for my sake. There's no way Harm would ever let anyone get hurt if he could possibly stop it. He stares at my eyes and when I try to look away, he tilts my head up so he can continue to look at me.

"What?" I ask.

"He said it was your eyes that kept him alive. He wanted to see them again and he's right, Harriet. You're so beautiful and I'm so sorry for not walking away," he says and I shake my head.

"I came to you, remember? This isn't just your fault. The whole way over here I was trying to figure out why we were being punished like this but this isn't our punishment," I say and he continues to stare at me.

"It's not?"

"No, it's not. This is what is going to save us, Harm. I have to go to him and be his wife. You have to be his friend. We didn't know what we were when he was gone and we lost our way but that's all we can be. His wife and his friend," I say and he pulls me in his arms again.

"He can't know about this now and not because of my career. I would gladly resign my commission if that made this all go away . . . but because it would kill him," Harm says and I nod. I know eventually, I'll have to tell him and we'll all have to live with the consequences but today isn't that day. "I'm so damn jealous of him because he gets to go home to you. He gets the house and the yard and everything else that goes with it."

"If that's the life you want, you can have it so easily but you just can't have it with me. Make it happen, Harm. You know how," I say and he closes his eyes for a moment. He doesn't even have any clue how hard that was for me to say. For the rest of my life, I'll have to watch him with her and he'll have to watch me with Bud. I can only hope that someday, something in my eyes won't give away how I really feel about him. We both have to move on.

"Right now I have to walk away from this and from you. You have to go to him and I have to walk away and you have no idea how much that hurts," he says and I let him rock me just a little longer.

"I know."

"I'm going to miss you. I know I'm going to see you again but I'm going to miss you," he says, his voice so soft that I want to melt in his arms and stay there forever.

"I'm going to miss you, too," I say, looking up at him. I place a soft kiss on his cheek and he doesn't let me go. I have to pull away. I have to. Finally, he releases me and I step back and straighten up my clothing. "I've got to go to him now."

"I know," he says and I can feel my tears starting up again. Damn it. I wish I was strong enough to walk away from him without crying. "Go. He needs you."

Before either of us can change our minds, I walk past him and down the hall towards the rest of my life, not turning back once.

**************

The End


End file.
